The Dark Prince of Helmdrr
by rikotch
Summary: "It started out as a curiosity. I just didn't expect everyone from Class VII knew about it. But hey, Sara always said that gathering volumes of a book lost in the annals of history is Bracer tradition, right?" - Fie centric - /heavy spoilers for Sen III & IV/
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER I: Prologue**

* * *

_Long ago in the distant land of Erebos, there lay fields of abundant crops, clear lakes and rivers and skies as beautiful as gems. And at its heart is the great City of Helmdrr, home of the rich and the affluent, of the nobility and of the gifted in disciplines of both mind and body._

_Inside its massive walls, the people live in towering houses made with the most elegant of architecture, the sturdiest of masonry and the most sparkling of glass windows. Down below lay the wide and busy streets, ever colorful as the richest of nobles prance around in various dresses made only of the finest of silk and embroidery. Their visages dotted with the sparkling of gemstones, necklaces, golden rings, and gaudy bracelets._

Helmdrr_ was the city of the rich, where fortune was aplenty._

_But in the darkest hours of the night, black coils of depravity extend outwards, enveloping all. An alarm here, a shattered window there. Bloody footprints and a knife wedged in chests. Thieves, murderers, drug lords and rebellious gangs _hidden_ within the city resurface like snakes from the shadows._

_Indeed, under the glistening night sky, the City of _Helmdrr_ becomes the City of Sin._

* * *

"Pleaaaase~"

"No."

"Pretty please~?"

"No matter how many times you ask, the answer is no, Fie," the man exclaimed as he laid a cardboard box at his feet. "Besides, I don't even know if it'll still fit me."

"Tight clothes hasn't stopped anyone. C' mon Rean... just for a bit?" the silver-haired girl insisted, sitting atop a stack of crates while holding what appears to be a black coat decorated with an excessive amount of belts, buckles, and chains. It had an impractical looking pauldron on one shoulder and was frayed at the edges as if it was ripped apart. Overall, an edgy looking coat.

"No," the spoilsport deadpanned.

"But it looks super cool. It's a shame to throw it away when I haven't even seen you wear it," Fie said as she took off her shoes and fitted her legs inside the high leather boots that came with the coat. "You have an entire costume here. It must've meant something to you."

"It did, once. And it's embarrassing for me to even remember it. So no. I will not wear it for whatever reason," Rean said, the faintest tinge of red on his cheeks. "I wouldn't mind the help though, we ARE paying you after all," he panned in a flat voice, eyes lidded halfway and staring at his supposed "professional" bracer friend. Said friend that was still tying the laces of her newfound loot.

"Fine, whatever." Fie hopped down her tower of crates and proceeded to grab more stacks from the shack… while still wearing her new boots.

Rean could only sigh. There was still a mountain of boxes to unpack after all.

It was a busy December day for the Schwarzer family as the winter holidays were swiftly approaching. That meant that the mansion had to be absolutely cleaned, top to bottom before any guests were scheduled to arrive. The head of the family, Teo Schwarzer and his wife, Lucia, were busy enough single-handedly cleaning the inside, so it was entrusted to Rean and Fie to clear out, unpack, organize and declutter the storage area. While Fie assured the noble she could help for free, the baron felt it unfair for the small girl and offered a hefty sum of mira after the job was finished.

In hindsight, it really wasn't such a great idea to let someone like Fie handle old and preferably forgotten personal items. After all, if there is one thing she liked as much as naps, it's to tease someone, as Rean found out when they inevitably stumbled upon an excessively sealed box. It was already far too late when he remembered what was in the box, and what embarrassing memories were held within.

A little overblown, dark and definitely too big, it looked cool though, thought 13-year-old Rean. His dad, mom and little sister all said it looked fine. They just didn't explain why they couldn't look him in the eye though. Or why they appear to be doubling over in laughter behind his back. That was why 15-year-old Rean proceeded to shove it in a box, seal it double over and then dump it into the caverns of the Schwarzer family shack, never to be unearthed ever again. That was, until now.

Filing in the back of his mind to burn the offending item later, Rean continued to shuffle through box after box of clutter, fishing out important family heirlooms from the junk before passing it to his companion to be organized and repacked into crates.

"Why does your family even HAVE all these crap?" said the girl, boredom apparent in her tone as she peered through an old and obsolete Water Quartz and adding it to the "To be Sold" pile.

"My dad has never been one to organize, as you may have guessed. That and the fact that trade here in Ymir is scarce enough to not warrant a daily trip to Roer. We get all we need from the mountains so these things basically just sit here until someone comes in to toss them out. In this case, us."

"Fair enough. But why now?" Fie asked.

"Oh, I haven't told you guys? Elise will be governing Ymir starting January next year. Taking the reins if you would. So it's only natural for her to start on a clean slate," the instructor explained.

"Oh… huh. Congratulations to her then," Fie responded with a sincere smile. "So… you agreed to do this for her?"

"Yeah, of course, I would."

"... _a serious_ case of sister complex," Fie sighed as she went back to the monotonous grind of putting stuff in a pile of more stuff and putting said pile in a crate of even more stuff.

It was only after the umpteenth box when Fie noticed the widened eyes of her sister-obsessed friend. Mouth slightly ajar, Rean gawked at the contents of the box. Naturally, this spiked her curiosity as Fie moved closer to peek. She only saw what appears to have been a book of some kind before Rean closed the box in a hurry.

"Hey-" Fie scowled.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Being strangely unresponsive, Rean stood up and carried the box inside the mansion.

"What was THAT about?"

* * *

Thanks, Elise," Fie said, wiping the sweat from her brow as the last of the crates have been placed near the station in Ymir.

"Oh no need to thank me!" the heiress said, bowing thankfully to the bracer. "If anything, I should be thanking you. Rean said this was all for my becoming acting Baroness next year, so it would be remiss of me to not at least help out."  
"No worries, it's sorta my job. Congratulations by the way."

"Hehehe, thank you very much. I would do my utmost best for the people of Ymir. I wouldn't want to worry Rean after all."

"Well, with a brother like him, I'm sure dealing with a bunch of male nobles would go smoothly," Fie said with quirked eyebrows.

"O-On second thought… this might not go so well after all," sighed Elise as her anxiety pooled at the thought of her _slightly_ overprotective brother coming along to meet other nobles.

"Oh yeah, speaking of, do you know anything about a costume belonging to Rean?" asked the ever curious bracer.

"A costume?"

"Yeah. Black. Edgy. Lots of belts. It came with huge shades too."

Elise blinked for a few moments before a chuckle escaped her lips. Catching herself quite easily, her hand covered her mouth as she tried in vain to control her mirth. "I-I have no idea…"

Fie could only stare as the heiress seemed to giggle uncontrollably at something. "O-kay… totally not suspicious. Anyway, I'm gonna head back to the mansion. See ya."

"I shall see you later as well, Fie," Elise replied elegantly. Or as elegantly one can say while stifling a laugh.

* * *

Twilight approached Ymir as the light hitting the mountain range quickly dissipated. Grabbing a quick snack at the General Goods store, Fie made her way back to the Schwarzer family mansion. With her work done earlier than expected thanks to Elise, Fie found herself exploring the freshly dusted hallways in boredom before gravitating towards her former classmate's room.

Knocking twice (as Rean preferred it as opposed to barging in unannounced), she entered the bedroom anyway.

"Rean, you here?" she questioned to nobody apparently as the room sat empty and organized, save for a distinctly out-of-place box tucked in the corner.

…

_I shouldn't. You can handle it. What's a little curiosity to an ex-jaeger anyway?_ she thought to herself, shaking her head and opting to lay on the bed and take a nap instead.

To no avail, of course.

_C'mon Fie, you know you can't resist. It could be something deliciously scandalous. Think of all the things you can tease him with! _her inner-devil spoke as she crawled to the edge of the bed. Yellow-green eyes stared neutrally at the box, hoping to burn a hole through the cardboard and uncover the mystery that lay within.

Eventually, the angelic-side of this once former reaper of death won out. Closing her eyes and sighing, Fie did the only thing someone could do in that situation. Sleep and ignore it.

…

The sound of adhesives being ripped off echoed in the room as a hand carefully and quietly unsealed the mystery container.

"Just a peek." Fie mentally assured herself as the last of the tape was removed. As if handling a ticking bomb, the senior bracer pulled the flaps of the box open.

"Aww," a disappointed Fie cooed. Inside the box was a bunch of knick-knacks that are by no means scandalous. Old figurines, a broken orbal watch and other common junk littered the box.

Not really giving up, Fie shuffled her hand inside. After a few moments, she felt something at the bottom of the box. A flat, smooth object similar to paper brushed by her fingertips.

"Mhmm, so it really was a book huh? Maybe a diary~?" Fie hummed as she fished out the article out of the box.

Turning the indescribable object around indicated nothing of what was written in its pages. The cover was a simple black paper stapled on top of what could have been the original page, sort of like a makeshift cover, no doubt to protect it. The front showed only the title of the book written on masking tape that was haphazardly placed diagonally across it.

"The Dark Prince of Helmdrr… huh? Never heard of it." Curiosity peaked, her hand slowly flipped the covers open.

No sooner than she flipped the page, the sound of the only door in the room opening resounded. Jaeger instincts kicking in, Fie dove under the bed to hide from the intruder. In her defense, it only took her a split second to correctly deduce that an assassin was impossible given her location, and another split second to realize that this person was several times more dangerous than an assassin.

_Crap. Not good._ Her eyes darted across the floor, to the open door and down to the incriminating material in her hands. Huddled under the bed, Fie prayed to Aidios that the person would leave immediately.

Alas, that was not the case as a metallic pair of footsteps entered the room and locked the door. Her means of escape cut off, Fie hid deeper under the bed and started to weigh her options. The windows or the door? Still viable, but escaping like so would be akin to implicitly offering her guilt on a silver plate. She still had her flash grenades on her, but going that route was a tad bit excessive. Wait it out? Fie mentally kicked herself for being too careless, as her crime was right out in the open, to be discovered by the very person she definitely did not want to find out.

She decided that the least violent approach was the best course of action, both to respect her closest friend and to preserve what little integrity she had left. Closing her eyes and steeling her resolve, Fie crawled out of the bed and stood up at the same time the person at the door flicked open the lights.

"I am very, very sorry Rean. I shouldn't have-" Fie apologized midway before she noticed that the familiar white instructor overcoat was nowhere to be seen.

In its place, however, was a long, black coat with shredded edges, held together by a white belt looping over the male's broad shoulders. His chiseled, naked torso was only partially covered under the open coat. Down below, his skin-tight jet-black pants and dark leather boots barely contained his shapely and muscular legs. A flash of skin was visible through the intentionally ripped fabric as her eyes wandered upwards to the hips. Fie was looking at him from the front, but her imagination helpfully conjured an image of the stud's posterior.

_It was amazing._

Ogling the eye candy, Fie forced herself to look past the exposed chest and midriff and over the deliciously tender-looking neck. Translucent black shades hid the man's eyes and large black-red domes covered their ears, all supported by a dark headband arching over his spiked, raven colored hair. The expression of shock and embarrassment on his face only added a touch of cuteness to his handsome frame.

"F-Fie…?" the hunk of steamy goodness stammered out, the pure hotness radiating from his soul burning his cheeks red.

Unable to respond or control the blush on her face, Fie averted her gaze from the dangerously luscious man standing in front of her. She glared down at the dumb book that caused this whole mess. Her eyes widened as she stared at an image of almost exactly the same person right in front of her, with only the much darker shade of hair being the difference. Below it was the caption that read, in bold letters:

_**"I am the Dark Prince! Helmdrr's Greatest Detective and Superhero!"**_

Fie looked back and forth between the picture and Rean as an audacious grin formed on her lips.

"Huh…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a Little Secret**

* * *

_"I am that which they hate. I am the bane of their existence. With my presence, all those who ruin this great city's name shall know fear."_

_"I AM THE DARK PRINCE OF HELMDRR! THOSE WHO OPPOSE ME SHALL KNOW DEFEAT! SURRENDER IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE!"_

_The dark prince shattered the silence of the night with his booming voice. The sound piercing the darkness which hides his prey. He travels in the sky, rooftop to rooftop as his jet black shades target his quarry._

_With the speed of a hundred airships, he descended among the rabble, sending dust flying as the shockwaves shook the criminals bodies._

_"The Dark Prince?!" exclaimed the leader, the grand entrance seemingly having not fazed him the slightest. "Get him!" he ordered._

_One by one, the criminals brandished swords, daggers, _and_ clubs as all at once they rushed after our cloaked hero._

_A smirk dancing upon his lips_, the_ dark prince crouched low before launching himself straight upwards. From his coat he took out his grappling gun, firing a hook and rope for each assailant under him. With great finesse, he flipped through the air and landed upon a nearby ledge before he hoisted the hooked criminals upward._

_The Dark Prince's steel blue eyes then stared at the leader of the group as his voice bellowed out once more._

_"I have captured your allies and I demand you surrender yourself immediately! Your days of crime in _Helmdrr_ are over!"_

_Cursing under his breath, the gang's leader drew his own weapon from its sheath, a long steel cleaver the size of a full grown person. With great speed, he swung his deadly blade overhead. Only to miss as the dark prince almost vanished right in front of him._

_Vanish he did. Using the power of the Time _orbal arte_, our hero weaved through the criminal's attacks with ease. Each swing drastically slower than the last as the prince increased his speed. Clutching the Fire quartz in his palm, flames wreathed upon his knuckles._

_"Finishing move: Ten Thousand Strikes of Inferno!"_

_At impossible speeds, the Dark Prince's fists met the criminal's face and body. The fire _arte_ burning in his hand inflicting severe damage to his foe and the time _arte_ multiplying his speed to punch several times a second._

_Badly bruised and beaten, the gang leader staggered back._

_"IT'S OVER!" the dark hero proudly boasted as he pulled his right arm back and delivered a fire infused straight right his opponent's body, flinging his enemy several feet away to a nearby wall. The criminal leader was knocked unconscious as his defeated body slumped down to the floor._

_"I am that which they hate. I am the bane of their existence. With my presence, all those who ruin this great city's name shall know fear."_

_"I AM THE DARK PRINCE OF HELMDRR! THOSE WHO OPPOSE ME SHALL KNOW DEFEAT! SURRENDER IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE!"_

_The Dark Prince repeated his mantra as he took off yet again, disappearing in the blackened sky to fight another battle in the Great City of Helmdrr._

* * *

"Fie, please."

"..."

"Don't tell anyone."

"..."

"I'm serious."

"..."

"Say something..."

"..." Lime-green eyes continued to stare at his costumed self. Uncomfortably so, if Rean may add.

His hand instinctively reached down to cover the exposed portions of his torso, which was made more difficult by the fact that the coat was several sizes smaller than usual. He had not expected Fie to be in his bedroom when he retrieved the old costume from its storage. Nor had he expected to give himself up to the temptation to try on said costume. Out of simple curiosity, he forced himself to fit inside the fabrics. To his dismay (or not), he found it still fit his adult body, albeit barely. He quietly snuck into his room for needed solace before turning around and finding a silver-haired intruder apologizing to him.

Said intruder was still intent on staring him down, however.

_I wanna crawl into a hole and die, _his mind opined.

"I'm gonna change now… alright?" he asked, sweat pooling on his temples as he desperately wished to be elsewhere. Defeating extra-dimensional beings intent on corrupting Zemuria, Rean could handle. Embarrassing himself in front of his dear classmates, Rean could not. "You can step out and we'll forget this ever happened-"

"You're hot," Fie finally said.

"What?" was his equally eloquent response.

_"You're hot_," the usually stoic girl repeated. Eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed, she flashed him a grin that was equal parts flirty and dangerous.

His impending humiliation aside, Rean could not stop his face from heating up at her remark.

"I.. don't think that's an appropriate complement given our ages…" was all he could think of saying. He rubbed the bridge of his nose to hide the flaring of his cheeks.

"Eh, I tell it as it is," Fie explained before a sinister smile flashed on her face. She moved several steps closer to her victim. "Don't take it from me though. I'm pretty biased. Maybe I should ask the others…? Or maybe your students~? Towa~?" the girl teased.

"No. T-That won't be necessary," the instructor said. His mind wandered to how his students and colleagues would react to such a query.

Juna would freak.

Altina would find creative ways to insult him on his 'indecency'.

Towa- No. He was NOT going there. He'd die of embarrassment.

And Musse, dear Aidios, would _never_ let him live it down.

Kind of like what Fie was doing now, to be honest.

"Fie, please. If anyone found out, I'd… I'd have to leave Erebonia for good. Please. Don't tell anyone."

"Quit being melodramatic. _Of course_, I won't." to which she gave him a flat glare.

"Thanks." _O__ne step closer to getting out of this ridiculous outfit._

Rean sighed in relief before he flinched from a finger that had poked him on his stomach. The nail scratched into his skin as it clawed its way up his exposed midriff.

"Don't expect me to do it for free though," Fie said with possibly the evilest smirk she had worn to date. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.

Poor Rean could only gulp as his normally docile and reserved classmate placed a hand on his chest and pressed her body against him. Red continuing to suffuse his cheeks, he shut his eyes and tried to calm his mind, body, and heart… among others. He swore to himself never to wear such tight pants ever again.

* * *

The day was doubly productive for one Lucia Schwarzer. Along with the laundry, she had finished dusting every room, polished every ornament, replaced every bed sheet and cleaned every inch of the kitchen. She had also tasked herself with cooking dinner for 6 as well, two more than usual. As a reward for today's hard work, she had tried to come up with an exciting new taste for the classic Ymir hotpot. Thankfully, Rean fished up a bottle of aged Calvardian sake from the storage shack that Master Ka Fai had shared with the family way back when.

Rolling up her dress sleeves and donning her apron, Lucia put her pride on the line to create the best hotpot in the history of the Schwarzer name.

Evening came as the last train had begun the trip bound for Roer. The whistle signaling its departure had faded into the mountain range as everyone in the quaint little town said their goodbyes to one another and left for their respective homes. Lucia was putting the final touches on her new, deluxe hot pot when she heard knocking on the front door.

_She's here._ Lucia gave the dining room another once over before nodding to herself as every plate and cup was perfectly placed for tonight's dinner.

She removed her cooking apron and was fixing her hair when the knocking continued. "Coming!" she informed as she walked briskly to the entrance. Composing herself once more, she lightly turned the knob and welcomed their guest with an elegance and refinement worthy of her status as a noble.

Standing at the door was a woman with long fuschia hair tied in a ponytail. She appeared to be in her early-20's but her actual age was far older. She wore a yellow jacket over a blue cocktail dress with a slitted dark green skirt. A red sword and gun combo hung from the holsters on her hips. The woman also had an expensive looking designer brand coat folded on her arms. The most eye-catching, however, was that she held an entire bag of various kinds of wine and beer on her person.

"Evening, Lady Schwarzer," said the guest in a way that was half formal, half not.

"Good Evening, Miss Valestein. Please, Lucia is fine," the baroness greeted as graceful as ever. She was clearly used to the eccentricities of the former instructor.

"Great! Uh… can I come in now? These bags are Huh-eavy," Sara asked while unconvincingly lifting said bag with one hand.

"Of course, you may. Shall I carry those for you?" Lucia felt only the need to smile and nod to the other woman's quirkiness.

"Oh no need, I got it," the alcoholic slung the bag on her shoulder and stooped down to the side of the entrance. The slender woman then lifted up a large box covered in parcel and strolled inside while humming a tune. The clinking sound of bottles and cans inside the carton gave away its contents.

Lucia failed to stop the sweat from beading on her face.

Patting her cheeks and shaking her head, she followed after her guest. Sara Valestein was, and is still, a figure Rean looks up to. More than that, from what she was told, Sara was the mentor of the girl that was with her son. The child even bluntly said that she considered the former instructor her surrogate mother or older sister.

And hell, Lucia loved the girl. Which was why she had determined herself to establish a rapport with the eccentric woman. Even if that meant defeating the bracer in a bout of alcohol.

Lucia Schwarzer had faced impossible odds before. She had triumphed every time.

* * *

Sara Valestein was not a quitter. Nuh-uh. When life gives you lemons, you drink beer. Which was why Sara Valestein was gonna party tonight.

"Man, the pub here _always_ have the best beer. I just had to buy more, ya know? Wonder what's their secret? Cooling it in the snowy mountains perhaps~?" Sara wondered aloud. She placed the carton of valuable goods on the counter before fishing out a cold can of beer from her bag. The contents revitalizing the poor woman as it was chugged down her throat. "Phaaaahh… That's the stuff…"

"My my, drinking already?" the voice said from behind her. The Baroness was smiling with a practiced air of dignity, Sara noted. "Did you have a frustrating day perhaps?"

"Yeah, no kidding," she answered curtly, the day's events passing her mind as she took another gulp of her drink.

"Well, I do hope dinner would be to your liking at least," her hostess replied. From the nearby table, a fragrant aroma of braised beef and a brothy soup assailed her nose.

"Mhhhhh~ That smells nice~ You used sake, am I right?"

"Oh, you can tell? You must really do know your alcohol. You arrived just in time too."

"Yes! Free food and beer! This is the life~" the fuchsia-haired woman exclaimed. "So where are my little chickadees anyway?" Sara looked around the floor for a familiar pair of faces, to no avail.

"They are upstairs currently. I'll go fetch them," Lucia said.

"Ohhhh don't worry. Let me." Sara took out her ARCUS from her coat pocket and dialed her favorite student's number. It was the first on her contact list even.

A loud thud was heard from upstairs before an answer came through.

_"Y-Yes? Rean Schwarzer speaking,"_ the voice from the phone answered raggedly.

"_Guten Tag, _my favorite little wunderkind. Guess who just arrived~?"

_"I-Instructor Sara-?!"_ Rean seemed to have choked out. _Guess he's excited to see me too. Aww, he's still so shy~._

"Yup, the one and only! Fie told ya I'm coming right?"

Sara heard a loud snicker from the other end.

_"Y-Yes… she did… just now in fact- I-I mean, w-why are you calling?"_

"Well I'm downstairs and I figured it'd only be respectful for me to call~" she answered, not meaning a word of the latter. She heard more shuffling noises as she climbed up the stairs of the manor. "Is someone there, Rean?"

_"No-! It's just… my dog! Uh yeah, my dog- Hey…!"_ the call ended just as Sara arrived in front of Rean's room. She was supposed to knock before the jostling of the knob got her attention and the door opened. She was greeted by a familiar set of eyes, but not ones she had expected.

"Fie? Didn't expect to see YOU here." Sara placed her hand on her hips before doing a double take. "What ARE you doing here?"

"Napping." was the short girl's shorter response. Sara didn't believe it one bit. For one, her messy silver hair was a bit more disheveled than usual. More noticeably, she was wearing neither her signature scarf nor her black tights and opera gloves.

"Yeah… where's Rean?"

The girl looked to an area behind the door for a moment when Sara heard another thud.

"He's busy," Fie said as she fixed her mentor a neutral stare.

"Okay…" Curious, Sara tried to peer inside the room but every time she did, her vision was blocked by her junior. The quiet girl had no intention of letting her through or explaining, for that matter.

"I'm onto you…" Sara warned her protege through narrowed eyes.

"So Sara, how'd your date go?" the younger girl asked innocently, changing the subject.

Sara didn't notice, however. Her gaze turned sullen as she was reminded of how and why she was still single tonight.

"Bummer," Fie consoled, absolutely zero sympathies in her tone.

"Look. It wasn't _my _fault that monster came out of nowhere!" Sara exclaimed, hand to her chest as if the very statement offended her. "Okay, I may have… _accidentally _electrocuted him, but it was going so well! The mood, the atmosphere, this great view as I leaned in closer for a kiss..."

"If you say so..."

"Urgh… I need a drink," Sara said like a true role model for kids everywhere. "Dinner's ready if you want." she said lastly before walking off and grumbling something about being called a "purple brute", along with a few _choice_ expletives.

The stoic girl closed the door as a passive smirk came up her lips.

* * *

Dinner flew by in an instant, but Lucia Schwarzer was pleased. Her family and two guests loved her new recipe, as evidenced by the younger of the two seemingly glowing in satisfaction.

It had been a lively affair, with her husband and Sara instantly bonding over wine and her son and Fie spoon feeding each other like an old couple. She laughed at Elise's jealous attempts to coax her brother to feed her as well. _A__s they say, dinner tastes better when it is with family_. she thought to herself.

"Thanks for the food Auntie Lucia." the normally quiet girl said to her.

"Did you like what you eat?"

Fie spared a glance at Rean before she regarded the older woman with a small but sincere smile, her bloom growing radiantly.

"You could say that."

"Splendid!"

If she only knew why her son was groaning so uncomfortably.

* * *

A loud splash echoed through the halls of the Phoenix Wings as two women dove into the empty outdoor bath.

"Ahhhh~ I love Ymir this time of year. These hot springs really fix up my tired joints, ya know?" the still sober Sara said as she let the springs warm her up, beer in hand. Amazingly, the Schwarzers had managed to keep up with her drinking. She almost drained her stock and was afraid she'd have to buy another box before leaving.

"You sound like an old man, but yeah~ These springs are the best." Fie had picked up more habits from her senior as the two bracers exhaled at the same time.

Being a bracer wasn't always easy. You get paid pittances, have to deal with inconsiderate clients _without _kicking their asses, and that's not even going to transport. Hell, most of the time bracers have to WALK. But that's then and this is now, as the two exhausted public workers let their agony and frustrations dissipate into the springs.

Silence descended upon the two. The gentle mountain breeze licked their hair as the mineral water perforated their skin. Simple bliss in the quiet northern lands of Erebonia.

…

"Hey, Sara."

"Mhhh~?"

"Have you heard of something called _'The Dark Prince of Helmdrr'_?"

"The dark prince of whutt~?"

"Helmdrr. Double r."

"I do want me some dark prince~ eheheh."

"... Too much info."

"'_The Dark Prince of Helmdrr'..._ where oh where have I heard that before…" Sara wondered aloud as she spoke the title a few more times.

"It's fine if you don't know," Fie reassured, stretching her legs out more in the bath.

Something clicked inside the older woman's mind as she suddenly sat up with her eyes wide.

"Woah Woah. _'The' _Dark Prince?! Where'd you hear that one from?"

"Trade secret," the younger girl half answered. "You know it then?"

"Who wouldn't! It's only like _the_ greatest novel ever," Sara declared rather passionately.

"I haven't. And if it was so great, why haven't I even heard about it until now?"

"You don't need me to tell you that you're not exactly the bookish type, right?" to which the quiet girl simply glared back. "Okay, so truthfully… nobody really knows. It just… _disappeared_ from the face of Zemuria. Poof. Like that. Just as quickly as it came," Sara explained.

"Disappeared?"

"I say disappeared but it's more like it disappeared from the public eye. There could be some original copies of the book left, but it's _technically _illegal to own one."

"What? Illegal? Why?" Worry flashed on the small girl's face from the thought of a certain someone coming into possession of such illegal contraband.

"Who knows?" the older woman shrugged. "I've heard it's got something to do with the war with Liberl, but you wouldn't catch ME saying that aloud. It's one of those things the Empire prefers hidden away if I would guess," she warned her colleague.

"Got it. Thanks for the heads up."

"That said, you won't be apprehended for secretly owning one. But it's not something you can just advertise either. It's banned in Thors for example," the former instructor said.

"Good." Fie sighed as another surge of relief passed the petite girl's body. _Had me going for a moment there, Rean. You naughty boy._

"Ohhh man, you should've seen those kids in North Ambria when we brought home a copy. They _loved _it. Got some boys screaming out 'I AM THE DARK PRINCE!' or something. They were so cute!" Sara let out a sigh as her body slumped further, her thoughts getting lost in the nostalgia.

Fie had made to ask who her teacher meant by 'we' before choosing to drop it. It probably wasn't something to be asked lightly. Instead, she had decided to close her eyes and let her friend relish in her memories. _Consider me intrigued, _she thought. Maybe Rean would let her read it?

Read it to her that is. In bed. Maybe.

* * *

Arise, arise o brethren.  
Awaken your spirit to your self, your body and your heart.  
For your suffering was never a sin.  
Your sin never to be burdened alone.

Arise, arise o brethren.  
Your songs of triumph have been silenced, drowned in your greed.  
Despair not, for you who oppose the light shall prosper.  
Those of you who fight, those of you with the will, shall overcome the beauty of the light.

Arise, arise o brethren.  
O brothers of the Aureole.

* * *

** And enter Sara! Seriously she was an incredibly fun character to write. I can see why Carrie Keranen had a blast voicing her.** **Still, hope she reprises her in CS 3. Sara would never be the same if she didn't :(**

**Also, I figured right now would be a good time for an author's note. So let me get some things out of the way.**

**Yes, this fic is ReanxFie, but I will contain it to these first chapters and future ones only when appropriate. This fic will center on Fie herself and not Fie-with-Rean.**

**Yes, this is my first ever fanfic if it wasn't obvious from my inexperienced writing. I had entertained this story in my mind for quite a while now and writing the first chapter was mostly an experiment. This entire fic itself will be an experimental run of my ability to write. **

**But no worries, I DO have a general plan for the story. And if I do well, I might even continue on to write some more using the seeds I planted in this first story so to speak.**

** As such favorites and reviews are much appreciated. Go easy on me though (or not. If you really think it will help the fic grow, then fire away.)**

**See ya.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III: Ties that Bind**

* * *

"You really have to leave so soon?" Rean asked of his two dearest comrades as the three stood right outside the train station.

"Duty calls... or something. Miss me already?" Fie teased. She was wearing a white duffle coat with matching green mitts on top of her full bracer gear. Her scarf was doubled over her neck as the biting gale of the Eisengard Mountains made early morning in Ymir almost unbearable.

The cold did nothing to stop the blush on Rean's face however, "You know that's not what I meant Fie."

"Oh, I know. What about you? You're staying until the new year right?"

"And a day or two. Then it's straight back to Thors. Can't say I don't miss the academy though."

"Well said. If only ALL instructors were as diligent," the girl said demeaningly, eyes flat on the only other person in the area. The former instructor was too busy chugging down a can of beer to notice the two pair of eyes on her. Despite the chill, the drunkard wasn't even wearing her new coat.

"Phah~ oh come on~ I'm diligent! And that's not fair Reanie. Why don't I get sweet, heartfelt goodbyes too?" Sara said.

"I know what you did there and I would never dignify that with a response," Rean said bluntly. His eyes softened a moment after though. "It was good to see you too, Instructor."

"That's my boy," the needy woman accepted. "Anything you want me to pass on to Crow while in Jurai?"

"None. Just let him know that Ms. Aurelia's furious that he hasn't shown up for regular Soldat training recently." Heart frozen and stare half-lidded, Rean held no pity for the poor man.

"Ahahah…" Sara flinched at the thought of working for a someone like the 'Golden Rakhasa'. _Wait, does that make me similar to that bastard? I'm not that bad, am I?_

"And you're staying in Roer, right Fie?" Rean addressed his former classmate. "I'm surprised Alisa found the time to spare for you, with the holidays and all that."

"That's exactly why I was called in in the first place." Fie shrugged. She was glad she'd be able to meet her friend, but that feeling was drowned out by the dread of how much work said friend was liable to dump on the bracer.

A whistle put a stop to their conversations. The first train bound for Roer had arrived.

"Have a safe trip you two. I apologize my family couldn't see you off. Said something about a crippling hangover, I think." Rean reminded himself to be more cautious in the future regarding Elise's drinking habits. Wouldn't want her to get addicted, unlike a certain someone. His eyes stared accusingly at the carefree woman who had bought yet another bag full of beer from the Valleying Echo.

"Hey, dun look at me. It was good alcohol." the accused said guiltlessly before carrying her suitcases and carton of valuables inside. "You take care too, Rean."

"See ya, babe." With a wave of nonchalance, Fie entered the station. She winked at the blushing man before she closed the door.

Rean could only gawk at her boldness.

* * *

"By the way, you said the 'books' were published here, right? How many are we talking about?" Fie asked her senior as they stood at the landing station in Roer Airport. The first airship to Jurai SEZ had arrived ten minutes ago. The two bracers were in the midst of their farewells amongst the crowd.

"Yup. Right here in Roer," Sara said. "It was originally sold exclusively in Heimdallr but eventually, copies of the books were leaked outside. When the demand for more commercially available copies was too much to pass up, the Roer government offered to handle the printing and distribution for the masses from then on. They even sold merchandise based on the series I think. As for how many… I would say five or six volumes. I could be wrong though."

"You seem knowledgeable. It's worth a shot digging around here then," Fie said as she stepped off the bridge leading to the airship.

"If you find anything, give me a holler. I wouldn't mind helping out. In fact, I'd be more than happy to give you the crash course on the series if ya want." the older woman said in one of the rare moments of actually sounding like a responsible adult.

"Thanks, but I'm gonna pass on the course." Fie smiled at her older sister figure. "Bye Sara. Try to land a date before we meet up again, alright? You aren't getting any younger."

"_That_ was uncalled for. Just you wait, when I get back, I'm gonna have such a cool and handsome man in my arms, it'd make you _drool_."

"Sara… I've been waiting since I was fifteen."

"Oh, you've really said it now. C'mere!" the immature woman wailed as she put her junior in a headlock and ruffling her hair. "Don't think I'm not privy to your little romp with Rean yesterday~"

"That obvious?" Fie asked, not struggling but was trying to control her blush.

The two were eventually forced to split as the announcement for the ship's departure rang through the airport. After sharing one last farewell, Fie watched the ship slowly disappear into the sky.

She stirred when a pair of footsteps approached her.

"Good morning, Lady Fie. Was that the airship Lady Sara was in?" the pleasant voice asked. Fie turned around to see a light-purple haired woman wearing a dark-red and white maid outfit greeting her.

"Oh, hey Sharon. Yeah, it just left."

"A shame I could not arrive in time. My apologies, Lady Fie," the ever-polite maid said as she bowed apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Sara would've preferred it that way," the younger woman reassured, not exactly thrilled to being bowed at.

"But that is exactly why I wanted to see her off." the maid smiled, a hint of trouble brewing from her tone.

Fie had known Sharon for a long time now, but she still can't help but feel unnerved by the strange maid. "You came to pick me up?" she tried to change to subject.

"Most certainly! Lady Alisa will see you immediately," the maid said as she turned around and descended the stairs. Fie followed suit.

She wasn't expecting to ride an orbal limousine though.

Unexpected, but not really complaining, Fie relaxed in her seat as she looked at city through the car window. It was indeed fascinating how much Roer had changed ever since their field studies. Back then, the upper and lower layers of the city were only connected by walkways and escalators. Now, whole roads have been built, sloping up and down and curving between the two layers. Fie had also noticed a dramatic increase in orbal vehicles coming in and out of the city. Among those were some bikes, like the one Rean owned.

Light snow dusted the roofs of the upper layer buildings while crowds gathered around the lower layer ones; no doubt the bustle was due to the holiday season approaching. Tugging on her scarf, Fie unwrapped the second coil off her neck. Maybe she could buy a new scarf here too. The choices wouldn't be as good as Crossbell's, but at least it wasn't half a kingdom away.

While the distance between the airport and the Reinford Company building wasn't too large, the warm car interior made the brief drive all the more comfortable, as Fie found herself dozing off. She awoke when Sharon had called out that they had arrived. Shaking off her drowsiness, the bracer followed her guide up the escalator and into the front lot. Medium sized buildings were annexed on either side of the tower in the few short months since her last visit. The sun reflected off the front glass windows as the Reinford family logo was proudly displayed at the base.

Still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the two entered the building. Sharon led her past the crowded lobby of the company and into the VIP-only elevator. It only took a few minutes for the lift to arrive at the ground floor and another few to ascend to the 23rd, where the current chairman worked.

Finally eighty percent awake, Fie stepped off the elevator and stopped in front of a luxurious looking door.

"Lady Alisa, your guest has arrived. Shall I show her in?" The maid knocked. No answer.

"She's inside right?" Fie asked with a slightly confused look.

"Please do not worry, Lady Fie. I know just the thing." The maid smiled again, but this time, her mischievousness radiated from her form.

Sharon took out her ARCUS unit and dialed a number. After a few seconds of waiting for a connection, the call was answered. Through the small speakers, a very loud and annoyed voice spoke.

_"Sharon, for the last time, DON'T call me on this number! We literally work one floor away. Just come into my room if you need me for something! This line is already busy enough with all my calls, I don't need you to-"_

"Lady Alisa, your guest has arrived," Sharon calmly interrupted.

_"Guest? ...OHHHHHHH- AHHHH!"_

A loud yelp and thud were heard through the door as if someone fell off their chair.

_"HOLD ON-Let me just-"_ The line went blank.

Sharon motioned towards the door.

Fie sweatdropped, but knocked anyway, "Alisa, I'm coming in."

No sooner had she opened the door, her vision blackened as her face was smothered by two huge but incredibly soft and round marshmallows.

"Fie~ Ohh how I missed you~" Alisa exclaimed, seemingly tightening the death smother on the small girl.

"Alisa-... Boobs-... Can't breathe-...!"

After a few agonizing seconds of no oxygen, the bustier female finally let go. It took a few moments of Fie gasping for air before she was able to look at her friend in the eye. "I missed you… too…"

Or tried to at least. She stared at her friend as her words died down. The long, blond-haired woman was wearing her usual white attire along with a white dress skirt. A few buttons were loose as they revealed the woman's ample bust and cleavage which, only recently, tried to suffocate the bracer. Curiously enough, the normally fashionable woman had dark black sunglasses covering her eyes. Alisa strained a smile as she looked away nervously.

"Cool shades."

"T-Thanks. I-In fact, they were so cool, I just HAD to wear it all the time at work. Right Sharon? I'm thinking this could be a new work ethic for the Reinford Group. All day with shades. Yup," the chairwoman sputtered.

She whimpered as her nimble classmate confiscated the sunglasses off her face.

"Alisa… you were skipping out on sleep again weren't you?"

Alisa's eyes were red in both her irises and sclera, indicating hours of eye strain. Underneath were layers upon layers of dark and heavy bags which the exhausted girl had tried to hide with makeup. Her face turned glum as she sighed.

"I know… I just couldn't help it," Alisa said. "When I heard you were coming over, I just... couldn't. There were loads of requests my mom had prepared but I didn't want you to deal with them all. So I tried to do more and more of those requests by myself, or at least enough to keep her satisfied. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm sorry."

"Get some sleep, Alisa," Fie demanded. "I'll ask Sharon for the list of requests, but you seriously need to get some rest. We'll talk about it more when you wake up."

"I can't. Some of them are dangerous. I was planning on coming with-"

"I appreciate the concern, but let ME worry about my job, Alisa," Fie reprimanded. "If anything, you might just get in the way, considering how you look right about ready to keel over. And Sharon and I might not be there when you do."

"While I will never allow myself to not be present in your time of need, my lady, I'm afraid I have to agree with Lady Fie's wisdom," Sharon chimed in. "I do believe it safer for you to stay here and rest."

"B-but…"

"No buts. Look, when I agreed to help, it was because I wanted to see you again Alisa," Fie said. "I genuinely wanted to try and take off some of your workloads, at least for a little while."

The sharp-eyed woman glared as she brought up her ARCUS. "I didn't want to come all the way here to see my friend exhausting herself half to death. None of us would. Heck, Rean's one train ride away! That gofer would be thrilled to see you working like this. If I call him now, I know he'd take the first train here and say the same things."

At the mention of the familiar name, Alisa's wide eyes softened as a pleasant curve overtook her lips.

"You really do take after him, huh?"

"What'd you mean by that?" Fie snapped back, but her stance relaxed.

"You used to be this indifferent, unemotional girl that preferred to be left alone. Like we meant as little to you as the dirt on your feet. One moment you could be ignoring the person talking to you, then harshly scathe them with words the next."

Alisa recounted her early memories of the stoic girl. "But now you're all sappy and dramatic. Maybe in time, you could graduate to spouting poetically cheesy nonsense to terrorists."

"Shut it. I'm not THAT bad." Fie panned, not really denying the words nor the blush on her cheeks. The two friends shared a chuckle.

"Thanks, Fie. I really messed up huh?"

"You bet you did. And it's up to us to whip you back into shape."

"My, what a pleasant reunion this has been~" Sharon interrupted. "But may I suggest we continue this inside? I shall go prepare us some snacks and some tea."

"Yes please~," an uncharacteristically childish Alisa said.

"Oh, one more thing, Alisa."

"Hm?"

"Drop the shades. You look ridiculous in them," Fie remarked with a half-lidded stare.

"Oh my… should I have gone with the pink ones, after all, my lady? They were your favorite," Sharon asked.

"Ignore her." Alisa groaned.

* * *

After catching up in the lounge with some cake, biscuits and herbal tea courtesy of Sharon, Fie barred the chairwoman from leaving her bedroom until she could sleep at least a full eight hours. She deposited her coat and other belongings in the guest room Alisa had prepared for her stay.

"Look after her for me okay?" the bracer said to Sharon. "That means NO ARCUS calls, NO business documents, NO contracts to be reading and NO interruptions."

"I shall do as you say, Lady Fie," the maid replied, an enigmatic grin pursed on her lips. "Lady Alisa shall be completely bound to her quarters. All her connections to the outside world shall be severed by my hands and she will feel the bliss of being held captive in the depths of her own slumber."

…

"Is there anyone you CAN'T creep out Sharon?"

"None that I am aware of, I'm afraid."

"Right…" Fie grabbed the case containing her two gunswords and stepped into the elevator. "I'm off then."

"Do take care, Lady Fie," Sharon said as her grin turned into a sincere smile.

Fie waved her off as the doors closed and the lift had begun it's descent. Alisa had given her the overview of the requests in her hand, but the bracer tore the envelope open anyway as she read the contents.

_She wasn't kidding. These ARE a lot, _Fie thought as she read through over half a dozen requests. Some were pretty trivial, like help finding a lost item, a letter delivery to the Sachsen Mines and some basic sepith gathering. The more urgent ones included a couple of extermination requests along the highways. There was also a request from a scientist about testing a new line of Stregas. Her eyebrows quirked in excitement. The B-rank bracer grinned as she stepped off the elevator and shot straight for the Roer Institute of Technology.

* * *

**A mostly fluff chapter. We got some hellos and some goodbyes, as well as some light character drama. I decided to end it here as all but one of those requests aren't actually plot-relevant. Can you guess what it is?**

**Favorites, reviews and follows etc. are appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER IV: Us and Them**

* * *

"... come again?"

"The request is as is written. I need someone to help me find something I dropped."

"And this something is…?"

"I can't tell you."

"And you can't tell me because…?"

"It's a secret."

Fie felt her left eye twitch as she addressed her sharp-dressed client. He looked to have been an elderly businessman with his black ironed suit, fancy tie, and graying hair. Bracer clientele were allowed a certain degree of privacy in regards to the handling of their goods and items, so long as they weren't illegal in nature of course.

But this was _ridiculous._

"Do you know where you could've dropped it?"

"Somewhere in the upper layer," the man said.

_Great, that narrows my search down to… I don't know, the ENTIRE city._ The object could have easily dropped to the lower layer by itself.

"Can you at least describe this thing that I'm looking for?" Fie inquire.

"It's small," the man described.

"Uh huh. And?"

"It's not round," the man continued.

"Good. And?"

"That's it," he stopped.

It had been a while since Fie used her "Are you an idiot" stare on someone. Composing herself, she tried to think of ways on how to probe the man for more information. _What would Sara do?_

_"Alright buster, what sort of idiot you take me for huh!? I got you what you said you needed. I don't need you to tell me that it's not the same thing ten times in a row! IT'S THE SAME GODDAMN THING IN THE PICTURE, YOU FU-"_

Fie shook the memory away. _Okay, bad idea. What would Toval do?_

_"Hey man, you like cars? I like cars. I know a guy who likes cars. And he knows a guy who can get YOU a car if I ask nicely. All you have to do is tell me all the juicy details we need, okay? What do you say, pal~?"_

Fie slumped in her seat as her gaze met the ceiling. She had seriously begun to question how she managed to get as far as she had with _those_ two mentoring her.

_Okay… what would Rean do?_

"Do you think someone could have taken it?" the bracer asked.

"Possibly."

_At least it's valuable._ "If you were to choose, who would be more likely to pick it up, an adult or a child?"

To this question, the man actually hesitated to answer. After a brief moment of thought, he spoke in a slightly embarrassed tone. "... A child."

_Wow, that actually worked._

"Okay, so what I'm looking for is something small and not round, something that could still be in the upper layer, and it's something a child would like."

"Yes, please do," the man said as he bowed his head.

"Alright. I can do this."

With that finally out of the way, Fie sighed and left the small diner to start her search. It was only midway through the afternoon but the sky was already turning dark. She decided to do the more urgent requests first and left the easier ones for later. She was regretting it now as it meant that she had to find this object in less than a couple of hours or else it would be too much of a hassle to see.

Bouncing lightly on her new pair of Stregas, Fie hurried to the northwestern corner of the upper layer streets.

* * *

Half an hour of sunlight left, Fie had only managed to search around three-quarters of the entire upper district. She had begun by questioning any and all children she had encountered if they had seen anything of interest laying around. Since she didn't know what the item was- and her client would most likely not tell her- she just decided to hoard whatever she found and hope for the best.

Fie checked her pouch: three different types of mini-orbments, seven toy quartz of assorted colors, two rings, a small stuffed cat, and a broken piece of some sort of machinery.

Seriously. People should stop losing their stuff. This was way below a bracer's pay grade.

Fie remotivated herself to scour the last quarter of winding roads and alleyways in the hopes of finishing before dark.

Growing just a tiny bit desperate, she stood up on the bench she was resting on. Crouching low, the ex-jaeger leapt up to the nearest rooftop. She could at least use her better-than-average vision in her favor.

Jumping from roof to roof, the cat-like girl scanned the city for any object that resembled her mystery item.

* * *

The sky darkened, cutting the sunset short. A clap of distant thunder was heard from the mountains. The clouds covered what little light remained as rain permeated throughout the city.

Fie retreated to the dry lower layer streets before the sudden downpour completely drenched her.

_Shit,_ she tried to not say aloud. If her client's item was not among those she had found, it would've spelled game over. The rainwater would wash whatever it was away and make it impossible to locate ever again.

She clicked her tongue. She hasn't failed a request in over a year. Guess tonight might break her record, unfortunately.

It felt… bitter.

Changing her scowl into a neutral expression, Fie made her way to the diner her client was at when she heard a scuffle nearby. She turned her head and found two young boys, barely in their teens, arguing over a small object in their hands.

"I found it. I get to keep it!" screamed the dark short haired one.

"You always get to keep it. Whether you found it or not!" the more submissive redhead whined.

"But it IS mine so let go!" The brattier of the two raised his fist up before he swung at the other boy.

Fie had already acted on instinct. She held the aggressor's wrist as she spoke calmly to the two.

"No fighting," was her simple statement.

"Wha- Who are you?" the teen asked. He pulled his hands back as the other, more demure teen let go.

"Big boys shouldn't be arguing about who gets to keep a dolly you know," Fie said half-jokingly.

Now that she was closer, she saw the object was a figurine that resembled a beautiful young woman. It wore a pink and white dress with a short skirt and thigh high socks. The doll's long blond hair was fashioned at the top with a couple of large, red ribbons. It gripped what appears to to be an orbal staff in its hand.

"But I found it!"

"Just because you found it, doesn't mean it's yours," she chimed. "If you give it to me, I can return it to its proper owner, okay?"

Fie smiled and extended her hand to the boy. She was not the best in handling children. That was more Jusis. Nevertheless, she tried to emulate the noble and his ability to seemingly calm those a lot younger than him.

"But… okay..." the child said. He handed the woman the figurine.

_That wasn't so bad,_ Fie thought before the quiet one behind her spoke up.

"You're a bracer, aren't you?"

She expected praise and awe from that statement. Fie did not, however, expect hostility from his tone.

She turned around and found the redheaded boy staring at her. She fixed him a neutral glance. "Yeah… what about it?"

His face crinkled in disgust. "I know what you are. You would do anything for money. You lie, and steal, and beat up whoever gets in your way."

"That's not…" Fie tried to keep her temper in check. They're only children. No need to snap back.

"Daddy even said it was because of you that Mr. Osborne was shot!"

Fie actually flinched at the accusation. Memories of the event and the bloody war that followed flooded her mind. Her breath rasped.

"Well, guess what?" he asked the bracer. "Mr. Osborne didn't die! He didn't die so you had to kill him again! And when he was gone you come in and take over as if we want you here. We don't, so leave! You and all those nasty, bloodthirsty Jaegers! YOU ALL KILLED MY MOM!" he shouted, tears staining his cheeks.

**_Slap!_**

Her stoic mask almost broken, Fie glared.

Before she could reprimand the weeping child, a voice bellowed in the distance.

"You kids leave that little lady alone!" the gray-haired man shouted as he sprinted towards the three.

"Oh no, it's old man Stan. Run for it!" the black-haired teen said. He grabbed his friend's arm and fled from the scene.

'Old man Stan' shouted some more at the two teens before bending over and panting; his black suit wrinkled as his hair stuck to his sweat.

"I finally found you Ms. Bracer. I hope those two hadn't done anything to you," Stan said.

Her gaze, however, was still locked on the two boys running away.

Closing her eyes, she counted to ten. Fie turned towards her client with a frown on her lips.

"They didn't do anything. I'm used to it. Thank you," she murmured, her sour mood reverting her speech to curt monotone.

"Let me apologize as well. I thought about it and I realized how I treated you earlier was rude and unfair of me. I am truly sorry," Old Man Stan said to her openly. He bowed. "As for the request, I should've been honest, you were only trying to help after all. If you weren't able to find it, I have no objection to scrapping the request."

Although the man's words should have brought some relief to her heart, Fie still shook her head.

_I did fail though._

Her bitterness grew as she thanked her client. _Why am I like this…?_

"Here. I picked some things up. Maybe it's one of these." Sharp green eyes softened as Fie handed the small pouch of items to the man. She appraised the doll in her hand. It's red, lifeless eyes stared back at her. "I suppose this counts as well."

"Thank you, I-" The elderly man sprung up when he saw the figurine. "You found it!" he exclaimed.

"This thing?" Fie turned the doll around in her hands. It did sort of fit the descriptions of her mystery item.

"Careful! It's delicate! An antique! It cost me a fortune to have someone repair it the last time!" the man pleaded.

"All right…" she said as she returned the item to its owner. It wasn't in her place (or interest) to ask why an old man would spend a fortune for a doll. A girlish one at that. She wasn't one to judge though. "Job done, I guess."

Stan, on the other hand, seemed overjoyed with it back in his grasps. "Ohh you precious thing must've been all scared and alone. I promise I will never lose you again!" He stroked the doll's artificial cheeks and hair, completely ignoring the actual, real, girl standing next to him.

Fie's growing respect for the man quickly dwindled back to negative.

Brandishing a pen, she tuned out Stan's depressingly creepy ramblings and started scribing down the details of the request in her bracer handbook.

"My dear, we shall return and you shall defend Helmdrr again from the evil dark prince. Hehe…"

_...?_

"What was that?"

The man paled. His expression was akin to that of a bandit caught in a jaeger trap.

"You said something about a dark prince and Helmdrr or something," Fie pressed on.

The grimace on Stan's face doubled her curiosity. His brown eyes shifted left and right for a moment. There was not a soul to be found in the usually crowded streets of Roer's lower district. The storm drowned out the ambient noises of the industrial metropolis as the ring of the evening bell from the cathedral echoed in the distance.

The tall man leaned in close to the girl as he asked in a low voice, "Are you a fan too?"

Fie leaned her face away from the creep. Her personal space consisted of a five arge radius cube around her. With exceptions for her friends and maybe enemies that she's stabbing of course.

She nodded in response. I guess I am?

"Come with me," Stan said. He stalked off without another word.

Throwing caution to the wind, Fie returned her journal to her vest pocket and followed suit.

* * *

The storm intensified as the deluge of rain masked their footsteps. The two made their way into a small apartment complex located in the heart of the lower layer district. Ascending the stairs to the top floor, Fie found herself in front of a large room. The tag on the door said _'Lei'_ which probably referred to her client's surname. Stan Lei fished out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

"Honey, I'm back! I brought a guest," the elderly man called out. He was welcomed by a soothing voice from a beautiful woman with brown, shoulder-length hair. She wore a simple, yet elegant dress which reminded Fie of her Auntie Lucia. She suddenly found herself self-conscious as the woman regarded her with a fond smile.

"Welcome home dear. Did this girl find what you were looking for?" the motherly woman asked.

"She did! And she's a fan too!" Old Man Stan said as he gave his wife a loving hug and kiss.

_This creep actually got hooked?_ Fie snarked internally before she shoved that disrespectful thought down her throat.

"Sorry for the intrusion," she said, remembering her manners at the last second.

"You two get acquainted, I'll go grab some tea and snacks." Stan affixed his lost figurine to a stand atop a large black box of sorts. The box had a glass pane at the front, yet it was otherwise unremarkable. Stan turned the figurine's limbs into a cutesy pose before he walked away.

Putting on her best bracer impression, Fie introduced herself to her hostess. A little girl came up from another room and crawled to the older woman. She cradled the small child as she spoke.

"My name is Joanne Lei. I'm sure you met my husband," Joanne said as she sat the girl on to her lap. "This little girl is Cecilia. Say hi sweetie~"

"Helloo…" Cecilia stammered out.

Fie gave the two a rare, sincere smile.

Stan came back a few minutes later, carrying a tray of baked sweets. Tiny chunks of brownie and chocolate syrup garnished the sliced pieces of cake. The pleasant, fruity scent of tea complemented the chocolatey aroma that filled the room.

_I should really get some proper food,_ Fie reminded herself, fearing for her weight.

"Before anything else," Stan blurted out. "I want to thank you for finding my lost figurine. I don't know who else I could've gone to if you had not come along," he said as he bowed deeply.

"Thank you very much!" "Thank you..." said the other two as the entire Lei family bowed to the flushed bracer.

"It's nothing. It's just my job," Fie excused. She tried to hide the light red tinge on her face.

"So, to the matter on hand..." the elderly man said. He gave his guest a dangerous glare as he spoke in an imposing tone. "What do you know about the _Dark Prince of Helmdrr_?"

"Not much…?" Fie reported. Judging by how the three pairs of eyes were currently trying to dig a hole through her skin, that answer probably didn't cut it.

She sighed. _It's gonna be a long night._

* * *

The woman's ear twitched as stared defiantly at her orbal laptop. Her screen showed a colorful **"You Win!"** graphic. The short girl had just defeated her opponent for the 10th time in a row in the game POM!. Her eyes narrowed as the twitch moved to her other ear.

_Something's wrong, but I just can't place it…_ she thought as her cursor moved to video conference program she had installed. She tried to contact the Reinford group chairwoman again. The third time was not the charm as the line failed to connect.

The matter was not absolutely urgent. The director simply wished to triple-check a certain line of code in their newest joint project. It was still in its earliest experimental legs, so some bugs and glitches were bound to crop up. They just needed to fine-tune them out or figure a workaround. Perhaps it was just paranoia on her part.

She hoped so at least.

"What a bother," Tio Plato sighed as she clicked back to her game. Her opponent issued yet another challenge and it was not one she was liable to ignore.

* * *

The pitter-patter of rain echoed through the Schwarzer family mansion as the chill of the passing storm seeped through its wooden walls. A steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a stack documents in the other, Rean snuggled more under his blanket coat. The instructor had just finished double-checking his plans for the next month's field study when his ARCUS rang.

Taking off his reading glasses, Rean's eyes widened at the caller ID on the screen. He sat on the comforts of his bed before he answered. As soon as he did, a familiar, muted voice spoke through the tiny speakers.

_"Rean?" _

"Hey, Fie." A doting smile adorned his face. While the two exchanged mails almost every day, the quiet girl rarely called.

_"How are you?"_

"I'm fine. I was just finishing up some lesson plans and maybe some more before going to bed." Indeed he might. While the papers were weeks in advance, the diligent man reasoned that the workload wasn't even half of what a certain short-statured instructor would do.

_"Oh, okay…"_

"What about you?" he asked gently, knowing full well her answer.

_"...I'm needy."_

Rean chuckled at her expense as he brought up the ARCUS II's live video feed. Through the small screen was a tired and lonely looking bracer laying on her side. Her scarf was doubled over her mouth, muffling her already soft voice. "How's that?"

Fie nodded in response.

"Miss me already?"

_"Shut up,"_ she said, not really denying it. Rean couldn't hide his cheeky grin.

"Long day?" He had all vacation to do the paperwork anyway.

_"Yeah…"_

Fie recounted the day's events in detail starting from when they split off. Her argument with Alisa, how she sprinted off the Nortian mountain cliffs to test some new Stregas, and how one particular lost item hunt really got her down in the dumps.

Rean,for his part, listened intently. He did try to cheer her up as best he could, though unneccessarily. Her face lit up like a silver star when she bragged about her new sneakers.

Her tired eyes soon smiled at him as he recounted his day to her too. How he had been helping out his sister with cleaning the hot springs, how he and his dad were teaching the younger ones in the village how to hunt, and how he managed to fish up another 'Guardian of Ymir'. They seem to be popular this time of year. The snarky bracer rightfully didn't believe the last one as they shared a laugh.

Just a little bit past midnight now, a warming silence descended between the two. It was Fie who decided to break it.

_"Can I ask a favor…?"_

"Of course."

_"Read it to me again,"_ she asked bashfully. She was referring to that one specific book they had read the night before. Or rather, the one Rean had read _to_ her while she laid on his lap. He only agreed to do so to secure the mischievous woman's non-disclosure of certain embarrassing secrets.

Looking at the poor girl now… he wouldn't really mind much.

"Chapter two?"

_"Yeah."_

"It's gonna be long," Rean said as he turned the pages of their new favorite novel.

Fie closed her eyes and waited.

_"Don't care… I just wanna hear your voice."_

"Alright…"

* * *

**Foreshadowing! And the sap! Kill it with fire!  
**

**This chapter should finish up the "Free Day" so to speak of the Roer Arc. Next chapters will contain more plot. I promise.  
**

**RIP the legend. This shall be my small tribute to the man.**

**Reviews, Follows, and Favs are much appreciated.  
**

**See ya.**

**-EDIT- For those of you concerned, I am revising previous chapters to upload on AO3. Is it better or worse? I have no clue. All I know is I hate myself when I screw up a scene or make it worse imo. Gaddamit.**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER V: Arisa**

* * *

"Ahh~ Sleep is _amazing._ And this morning air! Doesn't it smell fantastic? C'mon, tell me it's fantastic. Cuz it's very, very much is fantastic," Alisa exclaimed as she did an enthusiastic amount of stretching all over the balcony of her penthouse.

"It's fantastic," the mess of silver hair on top of the table spoke, half-dead. The baggy-eyed girl stared groggily at her friend who was very much knocked out cold just a few hours ago.

She, on the other hand, had only slept a wink when the childish office lady had gone to her room and started shaking her awake, much like a certain diminutive bombshell. Thankfully, Alisa did not see it fit to summon a giant machine to bodily lift the sleeping bracer off her bed.

Needless to say, setting off a bunch of grenades was a _damn_ fine way to wake up a dormitory full of military students.

"My lady, breakfast is ready," Sharon said as she brought a trolley of food to the nearby table. A bright-orange jar along with a couple of loaves of bread joined the two mugs in the wonderfully-delectable meal. "I have prepared some fruit and bread to go with your favorite apricot jam. I have brought some coffee for you too, Lady Fie."

Fie glared at the cup and saucer as the other diner sat opposite her. Rean liked it. Sara said it was good for those hangovers. And Machias basically forced it down her throat back in Celdic. So why did it make her face grimace when she drank it all in one go?

Alisa had been too busy stuffing her face with jam and bread to care though, but she did have enough tact to not speak with her mouth full.

The first rays of sunlight broke through the Nortian mountain ranges, signaling the start of another busy day for the two women.

* * *

"You want me to what?" She was asking that question quite a lot recently.

"I want you to look for my grandfather, Gwyn."

"Wasn't he…?"

"Chairman Gwyn formally resigned from the company when my lady had taken over all his responsibilities. He is simply Master Gwyn now," Sharon explained.

"And I intend to KEEP him resigned. But guess what? The day right after stepping down, he just up and disappears! _Again_."

"He's missing?"

"No."

"The Nord Highlands?" Fie asked, remembering the stories her classmate shared about their field studies.

"Not there. Gaius told me," Alisa said dejectedly. "He only left us a note. He says it's a clue to where he has been staying these past few months. Sharon?"

"Yes, my lady," Sharon said. She handed the bracer a note attached to a small envelope and some sort of round contraption.

"_'The next key is found where the Old Man keeps his toys…'_ What is he? The Phantom Thief?" Fie examined the device in her hands. "And what's this?"

Alisa hung her head. "I really shouldn't have told him about that guy. And that's a memory quartz decrypter. You know those old orbal video quartz we used to use? You need one of those devices to properly play the recorded picture. But sadly, without the correct memory quartz, that's just a hunk of junk."

"So you want me to find this memory quartz?"

"Exactly."

"Sounds simple enough. Though if it was, you wouldn't be needing me." Fie said through a half-lidded eyes.

Alisa huffed. "Sharon and I are far too busy to be playing with his stupid games. If he wants to be missing then fine! See if I care. But couldn't he at least drop a mail or two? He's making us worried sick!"

_Contradiction, thy name is Alisa. _The puff of her cheeks reminded Fie just how cute her friend would be sometimes.

Her lips curved into a fond smile. "All right, I accept. I'll go look for your old man."

"Oh no, you don't need to look for him per se. Just where he's gone. Knowing him, he'd probably be halfway across Zemuria by now."

Fie nodded in response. "So, assuming this 'old man' refers to your grandfather himself, I suppose 'toys' would mean his stuff."

"Not his room. We already checked it top to bottom. If I were to guess, it'd probably be in his old study right here in the penthouse." Alisa answered. "Sharon, if you would. I'll be in my office if you need anything."

With that, the chairwoman dusted herself off and made her way to her business quarters. Her ARCUS flipped open and on the line was her first business contact.

"Follow me, Lady Fie." With a dutiful bow, Sharon led their way to the private library of the Reinford Suite, if Fie's memory served correctly.

Shaking off whatever drowsiness she had left, she entered the expansive room. Several tables were neatly arranged inside and there were more than enough chairs on each of those for the three sole members of the Reinford Family. Shelves upon shelves of journal magazines, literature and theses sat side by side as Gwyn Reinford's old office desk occupied the other end of the room.

This was her only request for the day and she really did not want a repeat of last night. Green eyes scanned the furniture for any obvious clues as she started opening every drawer, every cabinet and looking behind every bookshelf.

She also pressed any suspicious object hoping for a switch or a hidden lever the quirky man may have used. Nothing.

Fie glanced at the suspiciously quiet maid. "You already know everything about this, huh Sharon?"

"I'm afraid I have no knowledge as to the whereabouts of Master Gwyn. It is simply remiss of me to deny the effort my master has put in to weave such a compelling mystery."

Accepting her response, she nodded to the wall of books in front of her. _Let's just get it over with._

* * *

_Brief History of the Empire, Best Taito-style Sleeping Techniques, Best Burgers from Bareahard,_ among others joined the pile of literature on the carpet floor.

Yawning loudly, Fie took another sip of her black vile to keep herself awake. It was past 9 am now and she has not made any sort of progress on her investigation. She made sure to at least skim through every book in the hopes of finding a letter wedged between the pages. She also double checked the shelves the books were on in case of any hidden compartments or switches tucked within. No luck.

As for the mess of books on the floor... she decided to just cross that bridge later. _Much_ later.

Fighting off her heavy eyelids, Fie tried all she can to resist the urge of napping right then and there. She really shouldn't have stayed all night like that talking to Rean. She barely gets enough shuteye as is with her busy schedule.

Sitting upright, the tired girl mentally kicked herself for unconsciously closing her eyes. _Focus._

She rolled the thingamajig that came with the note. Nothing. She glared at the gaudy envelope with the cryptic handwriting. It refused to reveal it's secrets.

_What kind of toys would an old man want to have anyway?_

…

Something clicked in her mind when she thought of a particular phrase she had heard yesterday. _No way._

Looking up from the table, Fie found herself alone in the quiet study. Sharon had long since left the girl to attend to her other duties— although she wouldn't doubt that if she called her name, the maid would appear instantaneously at the door.

Skipping the books in the 'C' section, Fie rushed her way to the 'D' section. Sharpening her wits now, her eyes scanned the labels for any peculiar looking titles, her fingers sliding across the top of each one.

If there was a place to hide an illegal book, it's in plain sight among boring ones.

It was an apparent success, as she felt what seemed like two paperbound books stuck together on her fingertips. Looking at it from the side, the two articles appeared as a single leather-bound book with the title _'Dissertations on the use of Orbal Technology in Fishing'._

Pulling out the suspicious item, she had hit the nail on the head when the first page revealed not a mess of words, but that of an image of a very familiar and very handsome dark prince.

_Bingo. Time to pay them a visit then,_ Fie mused. It seemed like last night wasn't such a waste of time, after all.

* * *

It was close to warm in Roer when midday struck. Fie had informed Alisa that she had found something that could help and that she was going to investigate immediately. The preoccupied chairwoman, however, insisted on coming after she sorted out a couple of messes. Not willing to disregard her client's orders, she took a small nap in her quarters before heading out.

Standing outside _Dvance's_ diner, Fie had been munching on the sandwich Sharon had thankfully prepared for her when Alisa had arrived. The fashionable woman's light cream jacket wrinkled as she wheezed out from her lack of breath. "Sorry, I'm late!"

"You didn't need to come you know. This isn't a picnic." Still, Fie tossed her friend a can of cold lemon juice she had bought from the orbal vending machine to which the parched woman thanked. She had wanted to treat her inside the diner, but the Alisa really was late.

"I'm sorry. We'd been trying to contact the Epstein Foundation but the director was out. Dealing with her bratty second-in-command can really grate on your nerves."

"Jona was his name right?" Fie's eyes narrowed mischievously, her smile cast with lascivious mischief. "I don't know, boys like him are awfully obedient if you give them just a little 'tease'."

"That's not funny, Fie…" A smirk pursed Alisa's lips. "Though it would be funny to see how he'd react with that smug face of his."

Oh, how he'd react indeed. Funnily enough, Director Tio suggested the same thing too. The two women shared a hearty chuckle.

"C' mon. It's close by." Grinning, Fie led the way towards the heart of Roer.

It was the same run-of-the-mill apartment complex from last night, although she could see now the dark painted walls and the various murals graffitied to it. She probably missed it the first time around due to the inclement weather yesterday. A guard had approached them, and Fie informed him that she had business with a resident.

He didn't buy it. Even though she visited last night. Even when she showed him her Bracer emblem. Even when she said a chairman of the RF group was with them right now.

No, wait. That last one got him. His face paled and he immediately made a one-eighty. Guess her friend's title wasn't just for show. But...

Where _was_ Alisa though?

Fie looked around for the familiar set of sunny blonde hair. She found it several paces back. Alisa was staring quietly towards the horizon.

Right there, clear as day, was the towering visage of the Reinford Group headquarters, the glass windows reflecting vibrantly under the midday sun. Farther back and over the building stood one of many giant orbal generators Roer was known for. Like a massive antenna, each supplied the industrial metropolis a wealth of orbal energy enough to light up a town. The dark clouds of yesterday's rain had already dissipated, leaving only the clear blue Zemurian sky. An airship bound northwest had departed the Roer Airport before it's figure quickly vanished into the azure.

Alisa sighed. "Really makes you think how small we are huh?"

Even if she couldn't see her, Fie nodded in response. A still silence descended on them, punctuated by the rumble of orbal vehicles and workers in their lunch breaks down below.

"We could build towers with over a three dozen floors, giant airships that could fly days without stopping, and divine knights that could single-handedly stop a war. But in the end…"

Alisa turned to her with a small smile. It was forced— completely different from how energetic she usually was.

"In the end, we're still _us_. Small, clumsy Alisa standing flat on the ground."

Red eyes gleamed over to the Reinford building again. Her fingers gripped the locks of her hair.

Her company was her pride and joy, and the one thing she treated with the most love she can offer. To Chairwoman Alisa, the Reinford Group was family— one she dreaded to disappoint.

The two walked past the pale guard in silence. They had ascended the stairs to the familiar apartment room when Fie breathed in deeply.

_"Arise O youth, and become the foundation of the world,"_ she recited as she gave her melancholic friend a wide smile. "We may be small right now, but we're still young. Little clumsy Alisa could still teach the world new ways on how to fly."

Giving long speeches wasn't her thing, so Fie expressed it in the best Fie-nese she could muster.

Alisa giggled, but a radiant warmth shone clearly from her visage. "Still cheesy, though."

Fie winced. "Dammit."

Still, a cheeky Alisa was way better than having a bummed Alisa.

The door to the Lei apartment swung open as a middle-aged woman welcomed them with a charming smile. "Hello again, Ms. Fie."

"Hey, Joanne. Is Stan around?"

"He is in his study. And what a lovely guest you have brought today." Joanne's tender motherly gaze moved to the smiling chairwoman. "Good afternoon to you, Ms. Reinford. Please come in."

"Thank you very much. Excuse us for the intrusion." the ever-polite Alisa bowed. She followed the two inside the room when she stopped.

"What? Getting cold feet?" Fie asked. Alisa was far more sociable than her anyhow, so that wasn't likely.

"N-No, it's not that... it's just... " Alisa said nervously. Curious, Fie followed her line of sight to the same black box she had noticed the night before. too. It was still as black and unremarkable. The figurine she went over barriers to find was still posed on top of it.

Speaking of last night, Fie had learned then that 'Old Man Stan' and the rest of the Lei family were avid fans of 'The Dark Prince'. The old man had worked in the stock industry in Heimdallr before moving to Roer a few years back to become a small-time writer. While in the capital, the passionate old man regaled her with the story of how the novel series had inspired him to take up writing and illustration. He mostly wrote books aimed at children though so his dream of becoming big was still far off.

Joanne, on the other hand, worked part-time at the Dining bar - F located in the upper levels, the same bar Fie and Rean had visited to chat with the then captain of the RMP. Little Cecilia meanwhile looked after the house during the times her family was not around, along with the cooking and cleaning.

Fie told the family of what she knew of 'The Dark Prince', but it wasn't a lot. She mostly repeated what Sara and Rean had told her about the banned novel series. Apparently, the figurine she had found was that of a character introduced in the second volume, as Fie had only been read to the first volume out of six. Its name was 'Magical Girl Arisa' if she remembered correctly.

The name did ring a bell for her, but it was a common enough name to have been just coincidental.

Coincidence didn't explain the similar hairstyles though. Or why her friend was still gawking at the thing.

"Well, how are you little Ms. Bracer? And you too Ms. Reinford. How can ol' Stan help you?" 'Old Man Stan' said as he greeted the two girls, his friendly demeanor a far cry from Fie's first impression of the man.

"H-Hello there. N-nice to meet you. I'm Ari- Alisa…"Alisa spoke disjointedly as she introduced herself.

Unnecessarily, as Fie noted. The man had already addressed her as 'Ms. Reinford'. She stared at her friend while the sweat pooled on blond brows.

"It's as I told you when I called. You know Gwyn Reinford right? Did he leave something for you?" Fie asked. Her eyes were still glued on her fidgety classmate.

"That old grease bag? Yeah, I know him," Stan said. "You know when I told you I spent a fortune to have the doll repaired? He's the one that brokered a deal with me and the repairman. He left me some sort of quartz along with a bag of mira and a note asking me to keep it safe. Let me go get it."

He came back a short while later and handed the two a small, ruby red quartz. Fie inserted the quartz in the decrypter in her hands and it was indeed a perfect fit.

"Great! Thank you for your help! Fie if we could just leave that would be great~!" the unusually jumpy Alisa exclaimed. She was already halfway through the door.

Fie tilted her head in annoyance. "What are you so jumpy about? We still need to watch the thing, and there's a projector right here. Right, Joanne?"

"Of course! Let me set it up." the elderly woman said. She pressed a button on the black box, and the glass pane lit up like a screen.

_Oh, so it was an orbal computer monitor…_ Fie never paid much attention to computer lessons back in the academy, but she at least knew what an orbal computer was and its various parts.

Fie inserted the video quartz in the slot on the side of the box as she took a seat on the couch. Alisa seemed to whimper as she sat beside her. Cold sweat beaded on her strained face, and she was fidgeting like a life-sized, overactive Pom.

The Lei family sat on either side of the two girls. After a few moments, the screen whirred to life and the projection started.

There, in the video, was a small, blonde haired girl. She was around 7 years of age and had two cute, red oversized ribbons on the top of her head. She wore a pinkish outfit decorated with various laces and ribbons which only enhanced her cuteness. Her legs were covered by white tights as she wore long, frilly gloves. In her hand was a white staff with a decorative heart-shaped ornament flourishing the tip of one end.

"AhhhhaaaaaahaAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Alisa _shrieked_.

Acting quickly and just a tad bit irritated, Fie seized her friend's silky long hair before she could bolt.

"Fie NOOOO! Don't look!"

The tiny girl spun around dramatically, hands stretched down to her sides. Her laces flowing with each spin, the small girl crouched and then shot back up as her arms were crossed above her ribbons. She then waved both arms in opposite circular motions as one hand came up to her head. Her index and middle finger were extended in a sideways V shape in front of her eyes.

The girl had ended her pose by speaking loudly, and Fie heard a voice that was eerily similar to a certain blonde-haired chairwoman

**"Pretty Soldier of Love and Fortune, Magical Girl Alisa!"**

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"

Yup. Fie could really tell they were similar through all the screaming.

* * *

_Darkness has set foot in the dark abyss of the Bank of Helmdrr. Misty tendrils of dread laced the walls as our hero had found himself in these wretched halls._

_With the knowledge of a heist planned for the Bank, the Dark Prince lowered his stance and turned on his sonic detectors. The red lobes around his ears grew neon red as orbal waves imperceptible to the human eye traveled across the dark passageways. The Prince stepped lightly on his steel-toed boots as more soundwaves bounced through his surroundings. The Prince sharpened his mind as he tried to locate any person or monster that could be lurking in the shadowy halls._

_A small blip appeared on his radar. An object that was not there a mere instant ago. It grew and grew as it made clear what it was. A thief!_

_Turning his body towards the disturbance, the Prince crouched low. With the power of his Space orbal arte, he launched himself through the maze-like walls of the Bank. Phasing through solid steel, the Prince ran. His radar going more unstable as he neared his quarry. With one huff, he tucked his body in for a great tackle when he suddenly found himself back in the main hall of the Bank._

_Unfazed by the miss, the Prince merely repositioned himself. His quarry was hiding again and was a coward who believed they cannot take the Prince in a fight. Picking up the signal again, the Prince recast his arte and charged straight for the intruder._

_Shooting through the labyrinthian walls without a sound, he quickened his pace as he neared his foe. But at the exact right moment he expected to impact, he felt a massive burst of mana flowing from the intruder._

_Just as planned, the Prince thought as in the split second his body entered the conjured portal, he turned his massively accelerating body 180 degrees and shot straight back through the portal. His opponent failed to react to this deception as the Prince plowed through their body. The person stumbled and rolled several feet before standing up just as quickly. With staff in hand, the female intruder spoke._

_"That was quite clever, Prince. You were the first one to see through that technique." she quipped with a sincere tone. With her magic staff in hand, she sat on nothing as she gazed at the Prince._

_"Who are you?" he asked in his heroic voice._

_"Me?" the blonde intruder asked. Flourishing a stance which emphasized her curvaceous body, she twirled in the air as her hand came up to her head, her hand in a V-shape over her eyes as she introduced herself. "I am the Soldier of Love and Fortune! The true Heroine of Helmdrr! Magical Girl Arisa!"_

_Dropping her gaze back down to the Prince, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she mocked him with her next words. "The question is… Who are YOU, my lovely Dark Prince?"_

_Foregoing words, our hero sped to his foe, his brief stalling gave enough time to cast a Time Arte. He reached for the girl's neck when he felt nothing. Not the touch of her skin nor the breaking of her neck. When his hand had choked her throat, he could feel the sensation of nothing yet his eyes dictated that he should feel something. What he did feel was the strength of his own grip on his neck._

_Stepping back and letting the illusion dissipate revealed that the Prince was holding his own neck through a portal. His opponent giggled behind him as she skipped nonchalantly around our hero. Her form seemed to vibrate left and right as suddenly two more of the same girl joined and pranced around the Prince._

_Bringing his hand up to his head, he cast an Orbal wind arte on his location. "Aerial!" the prince shouted._

_The winds quickly dispelled the illusions, but they were quickly replaced by two flintlock pistols aimed at the Prince's chest. Our hero twisted to his right as the bullets had hit their mark, scoring a direct hit to the Prince's legs and torso._

_Using the power of the healing Water artes to heal his wounds, the Prince stood up a moment later when the dark hallways were brightly illuminated by over a dozen orbal rifles aimed at the Prince. The girl raised her arm into the air and snapped her fingers. The halls of the Bank reverberated with the sounds of a hundred orbal bullets being fired at once._

_Thinking on his feet, the Prince rolled as the first lasers were fired at his location. Ducking under some that aimed for his head, the Prince used his Time arte to quick cast himself an armor made of Earth orbal energy._

_"Earth Wall!"_

_The armor stopped the lasers in their tracks, yet was flexible enough to allow the Prince to jump and dodge several swords sent flying his way. As soon as he landed from his jump however, the ground made way as he fell through a portal taking him to the ceiling._

_Managing to grab ahold of the chandelier below him, the Prince steadied himself atop his makeshift platform before more lights dazzled his view. Several orbal rifles were charging up a massive blast of energy below him. Bracing his body in front, the Prince gathered his earth armor to his arms as he prepared to block the blast. He staggered forward however as the deadly beam of energy had intentionally missed him, yet went through a portal and hitting the Prince directly at his back._

_Losing his balance, the Prince fell. Before he could reorient himself to cushion his landing, the Prince felt his back hit the floor. He had been teleported yet again._

_His vision blurred as several other objects materialized on top of him. Rolling to the side quickly, the Prince dodged as massive stone pillars fell on to his location._

_No time to rest, he fell from the ceiling again. This time however the Prince managed to activate a Space arte to his shoes to make them stick the ceiling. Eyes quickly scanning for his opponent, the Prince was forced to dodge another time when a torrent of fire was spouted from the staff of the girl that had appeared in front of him._

_The blaze went through a portal, and the Prince ducked. Searing heat blasted his body as the flame gout appeared from a third portal under him. His black coat singed at the tips, the Prince hopped a few paces back as he found himself teleported back to the ground floor._

_The young witch clapped her hands. She cooed in a flirty voice. "Impressive. Impressive indeed. I can't believe you managed to survive all the little tricks I had prepared~"_

_"Your little tricks would do with some refinement. Or do you expect me to fall for them every time?" the Prince had bantered with a glare. He took a fighting stance and intended to take the girl head on._

_"Oh, I don't," Arisa said. A dangerous smirk flashing on her lips in the well-lit room. "But you will. Because that is what makes fighting fun. Don't you agree, Prince?"_

_With the final snap of her fingers, Magical Girl Arisa disappeared from sight._

_"HALT!" shouted a voice from behind our hero. Helmdrr's Police Department aimed their orbal pistols directly at his form._

_As soon as his opponent had gone, the illusion of the room dissipated, revealing the Prince to be inside the vaults of the very bank he was supposed to be protecting._

_Gold coins clinking at his feet, the Prince turned towards the just officers._

_He smiled devilishly._

* * *

**AND CHAPTER DONE! **

**I have been using the dark prince parts of the chapters to practice on writing believable yet cool action scenes(for me at least) to use in the main story itself. Which I will put to the test in the next chapter. Exactly how, you will have to wait and see.**

**Anyway, reviews, follows, and favs are much appreciated.**

**Also, I added a long overdue cover art. Hope you like it.**

**See ya.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI: Reverb and Echo**

* * *

**"Space Prism Artes Activate! I am the pretty soldier of Love and Fortune, Magical Girl Alisa! In the name of the light, I shall banish you from this plane of existence!"**

**"My memories may remain blank but my spirit lives on! In this dark world, my heart burns forever with passion! With… Love!"**

**"Come, Dark Prince! In this full night of Moon, our Love shall burn brightest in our eternal waltz! For there could be no better expression of Love, than through Battle!"**

"MAKE IT _STOOOP_!"

A plea of despair rang out in the small flat of the Lei family. A woman in her twenties was laid spasming on the floor in a blonde tangled-haired mess. Alisa clutched her ears. Like a burst dam of repressed memories, shame flooded her entire being.

"Daddy, Mommy, that's magical girl Arisa, right? Why is she saying she's Alisa? And why does she look like miss lady here?" asked the puzzled little Cecilia, her eyes glued to the screen.

"Dearie, that's just a costume play~" Joanne explained. Her motherly voice belied her amused tone. "That little girl's name is Alisa and she's a fan of_ The Dark Prince_ too."

"Could sorta figure that out. Old Gwyn and Franz used to talk and talk about it lots with us. Can't say I knew little Ms. Chairman here loved it too." Old Man Stan said. "...Used to, I guess," he added.

The little dolled up Alisa in the video continued to flourish her staff. She spun around cutely while spouting nonsensical yet precious phrases in an imitation of her favorite heroine.

Alisa wailed in agony.

**"All right! Next, go tell your mommy and daddy you love them, okay sweetie~?"** voiced a Gwyn Reinford. He seemed to be the one holding the camera as it centered on a young Irina and Franz Reinford.

Fie raised the volume to its maximum setting, a manic grin creeping up her face.

Alisa lurched.

**"Mommy! Daddy! Granpa Gwyn! I, Magical girl Alisa, hereby grant you my protection! In the name of the light, I will defeat all those baddies that fight you! I really, really, really LOVE YOU!"**

"Awwwwwwwwwwww~ That's so _cute_!" sang the adult audience members. Fie took a step further and had both her hands on her cheeks while her eyes fluttered at her adorable classmate.

"IwannadieIwannadieIWANNADIE-"

Alisa did remember filming the video once— but that was a temp thing. Gwyn was the one that introduced the family to _The Dark Prince of Helmdrr_, and soon enough, little Alisa was starstruck by the heroine, Magical Girl Arisa. She did admit to liking the Prince though, with all his amazing gadgets and technical knowledge. Anyone that had an interest in machines and orbal tech probably would.

Arisa, however, was different. Not only was she also a blonde and beautiful girl, but throughout her battles, she outsmarted her rival using clever tactics and creativity, along with powerful space arts and orbal guns. Adding to that, Arisa was the only person that understood the Prince on a psychological level, and had displayed spirited heroism during the few times she was forced to work with the Prince to battle a common foe.

Arisa was, without a doubt, a true idol. An idol that made young Alisa style her hair the same way. And the idol whose costume Gwyn had made for her.

But that was then and this was now. Little Alisa had moved on from superheroes soon after her grandfather first left the company. It was simply a happy memory now, to reminisce on her own. And, for the love of Aidios, NOT to be showcased to a friend. _Especially_ not to someone like _Fie Claussell_.

The dignified chairwoman had been reduced to a rolling mess on the carpet by the time the video finally ended. Picking herself off the floor and reining in her ruined hair, Alisa pointed indignantly at the smirking devil of a bracer. "Not one word," she warned, a mad blush still suffusing her cheeks.

Fie only gazed at her classmate with a noticeable glint in her eye and a mockingly fond smile on her lips. The quirk of her eyebrows, however, indicated she was willing to challenge that statement.

"Fie, I'm serious! Don't tell anyone and don't laugh!"

She wasn't laughing though. She was too busy imagining the fallout of 'Magical Girl Alisa' meeting a certain raven-haired Dark Prince. _These two will find out. Eventually. And I'll be damned if I'm not there for THAT disaster._

"Why does this have to happen to me? Why…"Alisa fetched the memory quartz from the projector. The ruby-red orbs perfectly mirrored her own as a melancholic expression reflected on the surface. She pocketed the quartz, intending to keep it safe. And hidden. Forever.

"Where does this leave us then?" Fie asked.

The question brought Alisa back to the reason why she had to suffer the humiliation in the first place. "Oh… he did say that this held the 'key' to where he was at. But, honestly? I don't know anymore."

Though weird and thoroughly embarrassing, it was a clue nonetheless. Silence flew by for a few moments before it was broken when Fie pulled out a leather-bound book. She flipped the pages until its half-point. "What if it IS a clue then? Or what if SHE's the clue?"

She pointed to the blonde magical girl gracing the pages.

"You mean, Magical girl Arisa?"

Nodding, Fie explained how she found the two volumes of _The Dark Prince of Helmdrr_ in Gwyn's old study. The 'Old Man' referred to in the note was none other than Old Man Stan, just as she guessed. She also believed it was more than a mere coincidence and that it was indeed possible for the manic Gwyn Reinford to use an obscure novel for some hair-brained mystery.

But the more Alisa thought of it, the less it made sense. "If that's so, that still leaves us with nothing," she said. "How exactly will it lead us to a location here in Zemuria? It's just a work of fiction."

"Heimdallr seems obvious," the not-so-studious Fie said. "Or, it might refer to the book's author or even the real-life people the characters were based on."

Emma had told her during their napping— studying— sessions that fictional books often used real-life scenarios, settings and actual persons as inspirations. It was a long shot, but the book had been appearing so many times recently that Fie's interest for it peaked.

"It might but still…" Alisa said. A flash of curiosity popped on her face. "Come to think of it, I never actually knew the author's name."

Indeed, further inspection of the two volumes on hand revealed neither an initial nor a pen name for the book's creator. Only still images on the paper cover. None on the back pages either.

"Huh, I don't think Rean ever told me about the author too," Fie said.

"Rean?"

_Oops._ "Sara. I meant Sara."

"Instructor Sara's a fan too? Then again, this sort of thing right up her alley. She's older too so she probably knows more about it than us."

It was _Sara. _Nothing strange at all about eccentric instructors researching illegal books, Alisa deduced. "But it is strange how there's not even an initial for the author on the books."

"Actually, no person in Erebonia knows the writer of _The Dark Prince_," the only man in the room said. Old Man Stan's frowning face stared back at the puzzled women. "The reason for that is… the books were not penned in Erebonia at all."

"The author wasn't Erebonian?" Alisa asked.

"It's what most experts believe anyway. That would somehow explain why the Erebonian government banned the series in the first place," Stan said. "I'll also assume that's what ol' Gwyn meant by 'key'. Guess he's out there trying to solve this very mystery, same as us."

Alisa hung her head. "That's… great. You're telling me that my grandfather could not only be NOT in Erebonia but also that he could be literally ANYWHERE on this damn continent?"

"Seems like it, yeah," Fie shrugged in response.

"Not necessarily. I could have a lead," Stan said excitedly. "I told you how there are six volumes, correct?"

Fie nodded immediately. Alisa took a few moments to rack her brain of the details of her once favorite novel series before nodding in agreement.

"What if I told you there was a seventh volume?"

"There was?" Alisa asked.

"Mostly just rumors, but Ms. Reinford here can attest to as well," Stan said, almost sagely. "To keep it short and not spoil Ms. Bracer over here, Volume Six ended on a cliffhanger."

"...Oh yeah, it did. That _really_ riled me up back when I first read it. I couldn't sleep for days!"

"In a sense, it only made it that much more poignant," Stan said. Without a definite ending, it would be up to the reader's imagination to come up with one that would suit their tastes."

"Hear, hear. My favorite was that two were actually supposed to get married! I mean, wouldn't it have made that scene much more _romantic_?"

"I'm happy you two are becoming friends and all..." Fie interrupted. Eyes' half-lid, she stared between the two nostalgia-driven fans. "...but I can't shake this annoying feeling that I got locked out of the loop all of a sudden."

"Sorry, Fie~ No spoilers for you," Alisa teased.

"Wouldn't want us to be ruining such a great story to a budding fan after all," Stan added.

"Right…" It was clear the two would stay tightly-lipped on the matter, so Fie opted to continue the discussion instead. "You were saying about a Volume Seven?"

"Oh yeah." Stan held his pen up as he spoke. "You won't find it here in Erebonia, but I reckon if you find a copy somewhere, you'll find your author. Probably Gwyn too."

"That is an astute observation, Master Lei." a pleasant yet unexpected voice said. "That is exactly what Master Gwyn told of me before departing."

Red eyes widened at the sudden bob of purple-hair. "Sharon?! When-?!"

"Hey, Sharon," Fie said casually.

"I have already been here for some time my lady." A fake frown pursed Sharon's lips. "You were simply the only one who did not notice."

"Yes, she was," Joanne Lei said, coming up behind Sharon from the apartment kitchen. "I must say, I hope we get another chance to talk, Miss Kreuger. Your recipe for apricot brittle sounds simply spectacular!"

Sharon regarded the woman with a charming smile. "I'll be delighted to."

"Daddy! Are you done there now? I wanna watch some tv!" Cecilia said as she came running into her father's embrace.

Fie only shrugged at the accusatory glare Alisa gave her. She knew as well.

"How'd you find us?! A-And, more importantly, how much did you hear?!" Alisa gasped out. She hadn't. There could be no way.

"It was my heart that led me to you, my lady," Sharon said bowed, an enigmatic smile masking the blackness of her soul. "It burns forevermore with **my passion and my love** for you. For there could be no better expression of LOVE, than my _eternal servitude_ for you."

There it is again. The feeling of wanting to die. Alisa covered her face with her hands, stooped low and whimpered.

"So what's up, Sharon? Why'd you speak up now?" Fie asked, trying, and failing, to interpret Alisa's mumblings.

The maid's posture, composed yet always somehow relaxed, stiffened. Enforcer eyes narrowed. "I have received an urgent message for you, my lady. It is from Director Plato. She wishes to speak to you at once," Sharon whispered.

Alisa looked up. She knew exactly when her maid would use that tone.

A static noise hissed from within the residence.

"Blast this infernal thing. Bust again." Old Man Stan rapped his fist on their orbal projector. The monitor was dyed a deep blue as an emblem of the Imperial Royal Family blinked onscreen. "Know anything about this, Ms. Chairman?"

Before Alisa could respond, however, a screech blared from the speakers — loud enough to nearly deafen the residents of the room. Fie dropped first, the intensity stabbing like giant, pounding pricks to her sensitive ears. Alisa followed soon after, caught in the arms of her maid.

Fortunately, Stan managed to pull the plug off its socket. Poor Cecilia started crying from the strain.

The world still ringing in her mind, Fie glanced at her two friends. They were glaring dangerously at the now silent projector. Her own eyes narrowed as the feeling of dread permeated the small flat.

* * *

**And I lied. The next chapters will contain the action. I wanted to split it here before college comes in to ruin my life again. But it'll be fine.**

**Reviews, Views, follows and the like are always appreciated.**

**See ya**

**Cover art by me:**

rikotch/art/Fie-Claussell-LoH-TCoS-III-788974638


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER VII: Steel Resolve**

* * *

_**December 15, S.C. 1207 - 14:30**_

_"Good, I finally managed to reach you,"_ Director Tio Plato said through the monitor. She had ditched her standard lab coat for a dark-purple garb. Her cerulean hair was a mess, and the steel breastplate on her chest heaved as she panted breathlessly.

"Director, what's going on? Are you ok?" Alisa asked, not exactly in a pristine condition either.

_"My situation is unimportant."_ Shaking her head, Tio brought up the server logs of what Fie assumed was the orbal net. _"There was a massive spike in orbal net usage recorded somewhere in North Erebonia—nearly double that of the current bandwidth capabilities in Crossbell. My guess is that it was accessed via the orbal televisions located in the area."_

"I can confirm that," Alisa responded. "An unusually large audio file was mass downloaded onto the network several minutes ago. It continued to self replicate and was seeded into each and every orbal television within 32 selge radius from the Reinford building. How are the servers?"

_"Server capacity appears normal for now. Should we track the source from there?"_

Leaning on the Reinford office wall, Fie tugged her scarf to her mouth. Whatever the two orbal technicians were talking about, she couldn't parse. All she had to make something out of it were Sharon's expressions— and judging by the thin frown on the woman's face, things weren't looking good.

'Orbal television' as Alisa called it, was a joint experiment conducted by the leaders of orbal tech development in Zemuria, namely the ZCF, Epstein Foundation, and the Reinford Group. The television was a cutting edge mix of both an orbal video projector, like the one at the Lei apartment, and an orbal computer granting them access to the orbal web. One of its features was the ability to download and stream videos that were pre-uploaded on the web's network.

Fie could, for example, upload a recorded video unto the network, then watch that same video in any orbal television without the need for a memory quartz. Alisa also added that, eventually, they could innovate the television in a way for it to able pick up live feeds from any orbal wave signals, similar to radios or their ARCUS units.

The concept seemed incredible and revolutionary on paper, but knowing the full extent of its capabilities only served to increase the tension in the room. Fie bit on her lip and tapped her foot. The thought of that deafening noise they heard in the Lei's apartment being blasted to the near thousands that owned an orbal television made her just a tiny bit antsy.

The furious tapping on the keyboard stopped. "Any news on our hacker?" Alisa asked.

_"Unknown."_ A digital map of Erebonia was brought up on the screen. An area denoting Roer illuminated into several red dots scattered all throughout the Nortia Province. Fie scowled as her eyes locked on to one particular region plagued with those red dots, far up north.

Ymir.

_"Server footprints indicate that they are somewhere in mid-eastern to northeastern Erebonia. I was hoping you would have a better understanding of the area and all possible locations they could have used to access the network."_

"You think it's 'them'?" Just slightly, Alisa glanced at the maid behind. Sharon forced a smile back to her lips but nodded.

_"Most likely. This wouldn't be the first time they attempted such a widespread cyberattack,"_ Tio said. _"I doubt anyone else could have the sort of technology required for it... and I personally know of two who easily pose a threat to our defenses."_

Ouroboros. The Society had been invested in Erebonia up until over a year ago. Although some of their archaisms remained hidden in various regions, key members and several of their elite Enforcers have all but disappeared from the Empire. Including one fiery redhead which Fie loathed.

_"As for what they hope to achieve… it could be anything really. The databases are uncompromised, and their technological prowess already surpasses our own. It's not information."_

"It's a diversion."

"Fie?"

Tio closed her eyes, her breathing less rugged. _"I see... You believe they are using this attack as a cover?"_

"No doubt," Fie answered. "It's standard jaeger M.O. If we wanted something done silently, it was best to wait for when the strongest powers within the area were occupied."

She moved closer to the monitor. "To put it in another way, if the Society WANTED to sabotage or steal something from us, they would've done so without alerting us of their actions."

_"And conversely, since we had noticed, it's reasonable to say it was all part of their plan."_ Ears perking up like a cat, Tio began typing faster on her orbal laptop.

"Exactly," Fie said.

"What? What do you mean my shipment's ready? I didn't order a shipment!" Alisa yelled to the old man through her ARCUS' video feed. A call had come through only a few moments ago.

The backward worker cap barely covered the man's balding head. Though filled with vigor, Mine Chief Rudolf was staring frustratedly at Alisa, his thick grey mustache ruffling as he spoke. _"Well, not trying to be rude Ma'am Chairman, but we discussed this a few days ago, right? 500 torims worth of iron ore due next week."_

"But…"

_"Yesterday, we received a letter from you saying you need it shipped right now instead. You even had your classmate hand it to us, remember?"_ Rudolf said.

"I did?"

Fie nodded as she pulled out her bracer journal from her vest pocket. Focusing her gaze, she skimmed through her request logbook for the more recent ones.

Her finger reached that one specific request. "Here, Request # 61. Roer. Letter Delivery to Mine Chief Rudolph at the Sachsen Iron Mines. Client was Alisa Reinford. The chief was out so an employee volunteered to hand it to him when he comes back."

She looked up, only to be met with Alisa's muddled expression. "But wasn't that letter a completely different one, Sharon?"

"Indeed. It was an approval letter for the contracts of several new employees for the mine." Sharon said. "I had read through it myself before passing it on to Lady Fie."

_"Not to us it wasn't,"_ Rudolf stated._ "It was a letter demanding we have the iron shipped through the freight train as soon as possible. It even came with your signature and the Imperial Family seal of approval."_

"That's…"

A cough came from the grim-eyed girl on the other screen. Fie mirrored it with hers.

_"I believe that answers our questions,"_ Tio said.

Alisa's, however, was more panicked. "Stop that train! I did NOT order any shipments!"

Nodding, Chief Rudolf ran offscreen. _"The miss did not order any shipments! Cancel the train!"_ he shouted right before a still silence was heard in the mines.

Fie hoped to Aidios that her instincts were wrong, that the situation would be resolved right then and there. She tried to stop her legs from quivering with anxiety.

A hail of gunshots erupted from the speakers.

"NO! Rudolf!"

No matter how much Alisa shook her ARCUS, not another sound was heard from the other side. Her knees faltered when the small screen showed blackness.

Director Tio had closed her eyes for a moment in condolences. The headband started to glow, and just the same, her golden irises gleamed in defiance. In a determined voice, she summoned a rod to her hand and raised it to the air. "My ride's here. I will do whatever I can from my end. Good luck, Alisa."

Both monitors now a pitch-black, Alisa took a few moments to blink and calm herself before breathing deep. There was no proof yet that the mine chief or anyone was hurt, but there was no denying the danger they were in. She stood tall as her red eyes steeled in passionate vengeance. Alisa Reinford could handle this.

She had to— as their chairman, leader, and longtime friend.

"Sharon, I want you to contact the Provincial Army and the RMP as soon as possible," she ordered. "Notify them of the ongoing terrorist attack in the Sachsen Iron Mines. Hostages may be involved. After that, send me a list of all active personnel working in the mines at the time of the attack."

"Yes, my lady," Sharon said, the solemn voice accompanied by a chilling gravitas.

"Wait here for the representative of the RMP. Coordinate with them and keep me updated on any new developments. If I assume correctly, the terrorists are going to need something to transport all of that iron. Be prepared to respond to possible airships or rogue Soldats being deployed."

"As you wish." Sharon nodded before silently stepping out of the room.

That just left the hostages. "Fie, I need you to come with—"

No response. "Fie?"

She was alone.

* * *

Fie clicked her tongue in annoyance as she mounted her gunswords to her waist. She hadn't even stayed to witness the gunshots, her feet carried her off before she heard it.

_It's my fault,_ her mind repeated. Irritated, she kicked the case holding her weapons, spilling its contents all over the carpet. Fie picked up all the ammo and grenades she could carry before grabbing extra healing items from her knapsack. Most of them not for her, but for the possibly injured hostages.

Looking out the window, her knuckles creaked; still afternoon. Wasn't ideal given she had more of an advantage at night, but time was not on her side. The longer she dallied, the more likely someone would have gotten hurt and the more likely the terrorists would have escaped. She stood outside the penthouse entrance as she stared at the screen, the seconds of the clock continuing to tick upwards.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a scathing-eyed Alisa.

"Move," Fie demanded as she affixed her a neutral stare. Alisa held her master card to the control panel and the lift was locked in place.

"You weren't seriously planning on going _alone_, were you?" Alisa's voice was strained. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but the betrayal had hurt as was clear on the woman's face.

"My mess, my responsibility. Move, Alisa."

"What are you talking about? This is MY mess too!"

"It's mine. I was... careless." _If I wasn't in such a hurry back then._

Fie shouldn't have trusted him. Never should have let his slimy hands touch that letter. It was a fundamental rule of being a bracer: never let anyone else handle your client's items.

And she broke it. Sara would have her head. "I'm going."

"And I'm coming with you," Alisa said. Her bow was already strung on her back and her personal combat orbment chained to her pocket.

"No." was Fie's short ultimatum.

"Why not?!"

"Because you need to stay here in case anything else happens!" she yelled. The excuse was a flimsy one at best, but Fie was desperate. And still, the seconds ticked by.

"Fie, that's ridiculous."

No way through, Fie turned towards the emergency exit, the bitterness clear on her face as she brushed off Alisa's repeated attempts of stopping her.

The doors shoved open, and Fie had intended to rush down the stairs before blinking as her body tilted forward. A clean concrete floor entered her view, the impending faceplant looming closer, and closer.

All reflexes failing her, Fie flailed her arms comically, disproving all those comments saying she was part cat. A sharp tug on her neck pulled her back, and she yelped in pain when she fell on her rear.

Alisa had a foot planted on the laces of her Stregas. Indignated, Fie glared gunblades at the scowling woman towing her scarf. _"Seriously_?"

"Seriously," Alisa said scoldingly. "I'm coming with you and that's final."

Groaning at the brief humiliation, Fie tied her loose sneakers. She barely paid attention when Alisa started ranting, too busy staving off the flush on her cheeks.

"I understand how you feel, you know," Alisa said. She knelt down as she leveled her eyes to her friend's. "Trying to shoulder everything. Trying so hard not to disappoint anyone…

"And…" Alisa paused for a moment. It was getting harder to avert her eyes, but Fie tried it anyway.

"...and trying _desperately_ not to fail yourself. I understand all of it."

Fie didn't want to respond, so she pulled her scarf to her mouth, but neither her obstinate glare nor silence warded off Alisa's warm smile. Their hands touched, and Alisa brushed the silver hair off her eyes. She kept smiling and smiling as a hand came up to pat Fie's head.

"Mh…?" The unexpected action caused her eyes to close out of habit. It was gentle and sweet— like Rean's. Emma and Laura's were more tender and motherly, while Gaius' was firm like an older brother's. Machias' was usually out of frustration and Jusis' was more out of pity and desperation most of the time. Elliot's was embarrassed but generous while Sara and Crow's were irritating in that they tended to rustle her already messy hair.

Zephyr did it too, most often of times when she failed at training. Rutger did when she told him she wanted to be a jaeger.

It reminded her of family. The new family she had vowed to protect.

It reminded her of Class VII who had embraced her and her bloody past. Of how she had to guide the inexperienced Elliot and the stubborn Machias through the early days of the civil war.

Of the relief she had felt when they found Crow alive and well. And of how they all cried when Millium sacrificed herself for their sake.

It reminded her that they were willing to protect her too. The face of the love of her life appeared in her thoughts. His raven hair tousled as he teased her with his cheeky lips and his smiling eyes. He had always been there for her when she felt down or when she felt needy and went to almost embarrassing lengths to cheer her up. Rean would give life and limb if it meant she would be safe.

"I don't blame you, for what's happened. I never will. And I won't let anyone hold you responsible for it either."

It was tensely silent in the empty penthouse floor, but Alisa's whisper was loud enough to echo in her mind. Fie opened her eyes a moment later and gave her precious older sister a smile from the bottom of her heart.

Alisa clasped their hands together, her passionate gaze blazing brightly. "Let me help."

Fie flicked her hair as the two of them stood up. It was wild and untamed. Alisa's was refined and flowing— but it hardly mattered.

They had work to do.

* * *

**Reviews, Views, follows and the like are always appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note at the start for reasons. You'll find out why. **

**First off, I am really, really sorry for the spoiler last chapter. I added the appropriate warning in the summary of this fic. This chapter is 100% spoiler free though. You have my word.**

**I would also suggest you watch the first few moments of the Trails in the Sky OVA. It's not a confirmed canonical representation of the orbment system but it is quite cool and I used that as reference here.**

**Reviews, views, favs and follows are much appreciated.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**CHAPTER VIII: Glint of Radiant Steel**

* * *

_**December 15, S.Y. 1207 - 17:30**_

A roar. Indescribable other than 'monstrous' It echoed through the quiet chasms of the Sachsen Iron Mine. Two men, dressed in black leather and dark-grey camo, patrolled the halls. Their noses whiffed the rustic smell that permeated the compound. The rifles on their backs clanked with every step of boot meshing into the gravel.

Mallory removed his helmet, setting loose his unkempt black mane. His eyes squinted at the destruction they laid witness to. Scorch marks littered the metal boxes and containers, it's scalding scent a reminder of the raw power whirring in their weapons. Unholstering it, he pressed down on the trigger— enough so the barrel started to glow, but not so that it fired its round.

His lips pursed as he relaxed his arm and powered down the orbal rifle.

"What's the matter, Mallory?" his compatriot asked. "Gun's not working for you?"

"No," he answered. With a shrug, he shouldered the rifle along broad shoulders. "Not used to using Erebonian tech is all."

"Can relate to that. They just feel so… intimidating, you know? Not like Verne's."

Mallory nodded in agreement. Reinford models weighed far heavier than he would have liked, owing to its voluminous magazine size and chunky barrel for decent fire rate. It emphasized its sheer effectiveness and destructive capacity more than refinery and craftsmanship. The specs were guaranteed top-class— the dents in the steel walls being prime evidence. He brushed a hand over one before flinching when the hot surface burned his glove.

It was a weapon for war, not subjugation. "I just think it was a bit much to open fire on all those miners. We would have gotten paid with or without the iron, anyway."

"The boss didn't want to take chances I suppose. The Reinford Company got wind of it and now the entire Railway Military Police and Provincial army are right down our necks," the other man said. He knocked on the nearby container filled with several torims worth of ore. "If it wasn't for our hostages, we'd be in one of these and on a ship straight to prison right about now."

"That still leaves us in a stalemate. They can't touch us, but we can't leave either. Not if they're barricading the train tracks like they are now. It's honestly getting boring."

Stopping in front of a pair of large reinforced doors, two similarly dressed guards greeted them with a grunt before moving aside.

"I'll tell ya what's not boring, watching that buxom babe of a chairman! I mean, I heard Erebonians were pretty but that Reinford chick was smokin'," the man said as the doors slid open into a short tunnel.

"Doesn't stop them from being dumb iron brains. What was she hoping to do, coming all the way out here on her own?"

While they were busy negotiating, a woman in her twenties tried to sneak into the mines. A bold move, but she hadn't made it far before being caught and had since been thrown in with the rest. She had remained tight-lipped on who she was before a worker 'voluntarily' identified her as the Reinford Group head chairwoman.

Through opaque goggles, Mallory saw his comrade-in-arms wink lecherously. "Boss' still neck deep trying to negotiate with the army. So we get first dibs on her."

"I thought he said 'escort her to his room.'"

"Try thinking that when you see her."

Another set of doors opened, revealing a compact, low-ceiling room. Left to right are terminals, pipes, and more of the steel containers. The place had once been used as a maintenance room if Mallory remembered correctly.

Looking around, he spotted a lone figure sat in a dim corner. A young woman by the looks of it. Long slender legs wore black tights under a white duffle coat. Her dark green scarf and thick hood covered her face.

"Look that's got to be her," the other man said, already strutting towards the figure. "She's even prettier than how I remember."

Mallory scanned the area again, his jaeger senses firing off warning triggers all over. There was something off, but he couldn't tell. It was only after his friend's hand came up to the woman's hood did he realize what.

"Hey, there cutie. Time to get off your fine ass and move— "

They were alone.

Lime-green eyes glinted in the darkness. A small device in her hand glowed with orbal energy.

"Huh-?"

"GET DOWN!"

Mallory narrowly ducked before a ray of turquoise lightning surged forth, nailing the masked man in the torso. The resulting blast sent the two men flying as electricity crackled throughout the steel-walled room.

Landing on his side, he fought off the ringing in his ears. The other man beside him had his back slam onto the metallic grates before collapsing on the ground. Thin veins of static coursed through both their bodies, the smell of burnt flesh assaulting his nose. He had avoided the brunt of the art but the graze had paralyzed him.

Mallory glared at the aggressor. The woman was already on her feet, the blast pulled back her hood and revealed long, untamed silver hair. Ethereal clocks manifested above her shoulders. Its hands moved around faster and faster as a viridescent aura imbued her. She leaned forward, her scarf flowing with the corporeal wind. Like a dark gale, she launched towards the two guards coming from the entrance.

Leaping mid-sprint, she socked one guard's face with her steel-toed sneakers, sending him spinning to the ground with a clang. She shot a knee to the other man, delivering a crackle of pain up his stomach, the speed and momentum carrying them ahead.

The man bore through the swelling of his abdomen and swiped with his broadsword. The girl ducked underneath the blade while the orbment in her hand whirred. Her thumb glided across the dotted lines. Orbal energy started to gather around her legs.

"Watch out!" Mallory shouted. A bit too late.

With a gust of wind, the girl flipped, kicking the man's chin in a brilliant display of acrobatics. His head snapped back violently as a fracturing twinge grew on his neck. Groaning, the guard struggled to stay upright from the whiplash.

Nimble feet landed on the skull of the other unfortunate man, faceplanting him to the concrete floor. Charging her orbment once again. The man's eyes widened beneath his mask as she rebounded off him, blasting him to the floor with an explosion of pressurized wind. His head crashed into the nearby wall, knocking him senseless

Twirling in the air, she propelled a kick to the guard who had managed to stand up. He parried but the sudden blow staggered him. The agile girl took the opportunity to sweep at the man's legs. He fell with a thud and had only barely dodged a heel diving towards his face.

"What do you have against my face?!" the guard asked, standing up again. His mask was doing little to alleviate the fear of having his face mauled by feet.

The woman's neutral expression broke for a second. She cocked her head playfully. Crouching low, she dashed and whirled another kick aimed at the man's head. He braced both of his arms to intercept it.

A fleshy crunch reverberated in the room, followed a manly wail. The girl retracted her foot from the man's groin.

He fell to his knees. "_Why…_"

A ball of wind shot from the girl's orbment sent him sprawling across the floor.

Dusting off her coat, the woman turned towards the exit. She yelped when a swivel chair was smashed on her, staggering her several steps. Dropping her orbment, she turned towards the new attacker and was forced to lean back when another chair tried to slam on her cheek. She heaved when a heavy boot rammed into her stomach.

Mallory held the chair defensively in front of him and blocked a kick. Flexing off the lingering effects of the sealing arte, he grabbed the shin and hurled the petite girl an impressive distance away. Her shoulder collided against a machine terminal with a thump.

Rushing forward, he tried to stomp on his downed foe before he caught sight of a round object in her grasp.

'A stun grenade?!' He covered his eyes instinctively when a blinding flash of light reflected off the dim walls, his ears ringing from the proximity of the blast.

Blinking away the after-effects, he glared at the woman. She held a silver bayoneted pistol in a stance all too familiar to him.

"A variation of the Eight Leaves School Unarmed Form. I guess you are a woman of culture as well," he said. He brought his fists up in front of him, preferring the more direct, punch method.

The girl remained silent, her face showing not a hint of emotion.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"I get that a lot," she finally said. She shifted her feet and raised the dagger in the defensive craft Morning Moon.

Mallory smirked. His heart raced and his vision locked to his foe. It had been a while since he had fought such an experienced opponent. Even the threat of the girl's gunsword didn't faze the hardened man. His knuckles cracked in anticipation of a good fight.

Time stood still, the scent of char and iron pervading the room. Green eyes blinked. Mallory charged forward.

Sidestepping the blow, the girl countered with her free hand, pushing the man back. She redirected a kick and ducked a jab to her face. Shuffling the dagger in her hands, she slashed at his thigh, tearing fabric and inflicted a flesh wound. First blood has been drawn. The red liquid flicked off the silver bayonet and she continued to swipe at the man's legs.

Her assault was halted by a fist hitting her squarely on the chest, driving the air from her lungs. She gasped for breath as she dodged a follow-up from his relentless assault.

Mallory stepped forward and punched at her sides. His flurry of blows was parried with a practiced motion of the girl's slender arms and knees. Calming himself, Mallory adjusted the power of his punches and focused on pushing his opponent backward.

The girl's back hit a terminal. An uppercut to the gut lifted her up the machine, her eyes squinting from the blow. She tried to regain her footing— the sloped surface made it difficult to stay standing.

Shrugging off kicks to his shoulders, Mallory grabbed her leg and flung her off. He grunted when a few gunshots hit him in the chest and arms. The orbal bullets singed his jacket and the concussive impact forced him to take cover. The girl had fired her pistol in mid-air and landed a safe ways away. She took aim and pressed the trigger again. He kicked a nearby chair to the girl, smashing on impact as she rolled to the side.

Gritting his teeth through his injuries, Mallory lunged towards the shooter. He held the advantage when in close combat so he intended to overpower the small girl with a grapple. He had closed half the distance when he felt his foot slip. The girl's dark-colored battle orbment blended with the floor before getting caught under his boot.

"Shit-!" He cursed, miraculously balancing himself. The woman had already moved into his guard.

Mallory struggled to block blow after rapid blow of the girl's hands, legs, and dagger. Three quick shots from her pistol, however, brought him to his knees. She kicked at his face. The strikes blurred his vision and he fought to stay on his feet. The girl fired a charged shot at his chest, shoving him back.

He couldn't stop a groan when what felt like molten rock punctured onto his ribcage. Blood rushed to his head while the smoldering pain numbed his senses. With a feral snarl, Mallory reached for the gunpowder pistol he had kept under his jacket. His finger pulled on the cold trigger.

With a bang, the lead bullet grazed the woman, rustling her silver hair. She stood, two gunswords pointed at him. Grey eyes locked with green ones in a staredown.

Bloodlust filling his thoughts, Mallory aimed the instrument of murder to her head. He had never missed a headshot this close before. Was not about to.

"I had fun, kid. Now die."

A metallic clang echoed in the room. The glinting of lime green eyes and silver pistols were the last things Mallory saw before his world faded to black.

* * *

The man slumped to the floor, unconcious. Fie smiled at the blonde woman standing behind him. "Nice swing."

"Yeah I wasn't part of the Lacrosse Club for nothing," Alisa said, discarding the rifle she had used as an improvised club. "You okay?"

Fie shrugged. "How'd I look?"

"You looked like a show-off," Alisa panned, her eyes half-lidded. Fie winced. She wasn't expecting stellar results with her copycatting but the man really had made her regret it. She'd probably need more lessons from Rean before trying it again.

Picking up her ARCUS II, she plugged an EP Charger to the socket, the portable power source humming as it recharged the battery in her orbment. A throbbing ache on her arm swelled. Taking off her coat, a bruise started forming on her shoulder that had collided with a terminal. She poured a vial of Tear Balm over it and took the time to catch her breath.

"The hostages…?" she asked, flinching as the salve mended her aching shoulder.

"Safe," Alisa said. She pulled on the rope tying the guards together. "Thanks for clearing out that tunnel by the way."

Taking a page from the terrorist's book, Alisa volunteered to act as a diversion by giving herself up. A gutsy move, but it gave Fie enough of an allowance to infiltrate the mines from the maintenance shaft they had previously used during their field studies. The two women then switched places so the bracer could buy them time to escape through the tunnel. It was a resounding success, however…

"Rudolf wasn't with them though…" Fie reminded herself, her irritation resurfacing. That kind old man was probably injured somewhere. Or worse. And it was her fault.

"Fie... don't," Soft red eyes consoled the girl. Alisa placed a hand on her silver hair and petted her. "He's fine. I know him. He won't die that easily."

Trusting her friend's words, Fie nodded and refocused herself. Her eyes trained on the subdued jaegers.

"They're definitely Jaegers, right?" Alisa asked.

"Yeah, but I don't recognize them," Crouching down, Fie examined the emblem they had engraved on their orbments. It was that of a bird, no different than the one on Zephyr's. It boasted large, fiery wings with fierce, blade-like talons and exuded a haughty aura with its deep red coloration. Inscribed below was the name 'Stormbirds'.

Definitely not one she recognized. Rutger Claussell would have had a fit if he found out some no-name corps copied his beloved insignia.

"That raises all sorts of questions then."

"Later. We're not done here. Rudolf and their boss are probably waiting near the station," Fie said. With her ARCUS fully charged, she stood up and reloaded her pistols. "I don't suppose you have a plan on how two frail ladies like us can get past a heavily guarded facility and rescue a hostage with no backup whatsoever and without any sort of knowledge on the enemy, do you?"

She was joking, but Alisa answered her with an excited grin. "As a matter of fact… I do."

"Hm?"

Alisa reached inside her cream jacket and fished out a pair of dull pink shades. It's translucent glass covered her eyes as Alisa smiled devilishly at her friend. Fie cocked her eyebrows in response.

"...Huh?"

* * *

**_18:00_**

The sun had already descended below the high mountains of the Eisengard Range. The last vestiges of light it gifted was already lost inside the caverns of the iron mines. Instead, its wide interior was lit heavily by artificial orbal lights. It was a necessity given the mine's close proximity to monster-infested territory. Bright white lights dotted the many steel containers as several black-clad jaegers patrolled the station. More dangled high above them, held up by half a dozen construction cranes. A shadow passed by one of the hanging lights before it blended back into darkness.

Alisa surveyed the compound from her perch several arge above ground level. She turned back to her orbal laptop as she listened in to her headset. She heard a loud voice.

_"What do you mean unreasonable?! We have HOSTAGES for Aidios's sake! What, are those RMP freaks too stubborn to get off their precious railings to save the lives of a few miners? Erebonians, seriously."_

_"But sir, we still have that right? Isn't about time we used it?"_

_"Not yet. I won't give those snake bastards what they wanted after they bailed out on us. They said they're gonna keep the Reinford's off our backs, and what do you know? Their chairman appears right at our doorstep. Where the hell is she?!"_

_"The boys might be having a bit too much fun if you ask me."_

_"Yeah, would wanna have a go with her too after this mess. I want to hear her scream as I-"_

Alisa tuned out the disgusting conversation and looked back to the station. The freight train sat inactive, torims of iron already filling its cargo. She tinkered with her pink sunglasses as she waited for the signal. They had a plan, she just needed to trust Fie to find Rudolf before they can enact it. It would be dangerous for them to sneak in as a group but she knew it would pose no problem for the cat-like ex-jaeger.

_"Found him,"_ Fie said through their ARCUS. _"Approximately 75 arge north from your position, between two red and one brown container. Three guards. Do you have a visual?"_

Alisa took note and searched for the specified location. She was able to spot the two red containers and four figures sat in a dead-end below a couple of catwalks and scaffolding. The range was far above what she was confident of shooting from, but she could handle it. She wanted to try out her new toy.

"Visual acquired. You ready for this, Fie?"

_"Ja."_

Speaking of cat-like, it was just about time she tested whether the girl did have the night vision she claimed to possess.

* * *

A fist slammed on the orbal radio the heavy built man was using. His thick beard and scarred face crinkled in frustration as he slammed another hand atop the box.

"DAMNIT!" the imposing man shouted. The RMP was not only moving in closer with their barricade, but they outright said that all negotiations with them are null and void.

"Uh… Boss… I think it's about time we used it," his right-hand man suggested. Both men wore red and black flight suits emblazoned with their logo. The fur trimmings of their jackets rustled as the cold mountain gale blew through the compound. "I don't really want to have to fight the RMP so soon…"

"I said no!" Using their trump card seemed like the best choice, but there was still no guarantee that the RMP wouldn't just shoot them down regardless. His brows furrowed as he steeled himself. No way out. His eyes hardened with death-like seriousness.

"Start shooting them. One by one. We'll see how they react to that."

A static blared in their ears. Then silence.

A womanly voice spoke through the orbal radio.

_"I'm afraid you won't be shooting anyone tonight, evil scum."_

"Wha…?"

_"Goodnight~"_

A loud electronic noise zapped out across the entire compound. All at once, the bright orbal lights ceased to function as all power within the mines failed. Darkness covered the freight station as the two men cursed.

—

_"Sniper. Five degrees northeast. Ten arge below you."_

"Got it." Nocking an arrow on her bow, Alisa peered through the scope she had attached prior. Various computations, trajectories, and variables appeared in her vision as her glasses worked its magic. A gift from the ZCF— one she had been dying for a chance to test on the field. She adjusted her aim upwards.

The arrow sailed through the air, arcing downwards and piercing her target's shoulder. The distance had significantly dropped its power and only briefly staggered the man from the impact. The tip had not managed to pierce through his armor and allowed the man to point his rifle in the shooter's direction. He had made to shoot when a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down. The small girl held his head close as she cut off the man's air. Skin turning pale, he struggled for a moment before fainting.

Fie hopped down towards the next platform. "Same coordinates, seven arge below. Aim for the wall," she spotted.

_"Roger."_ A few seconds later, a red beam soared in the air with a burning crackle. Blazing red in the darkness, it burrowed through the concrete wall. The unsuspecting jaeger nearby glanced at the arrow when it exploded like a suppressed firework. The force blew him back and the ethereal flames scalded his torso. He gasped and tried to balance himself for his dear life.

Moving quickly, she grabbed the chains at her feet and dashed towards the staggering man. She crudely wrapped him in iron and kicked him off. The chains clinking, the man screamed as he dangled off the high platform.

"Hey Alisa, you know what I said about you and sunglasses?" Fie asked her personal sniper. "I take it all back. They're awesome on you."

_"Hehe… Thank you~"_

The man hoisted up precariously with chains screamed again.

_"That got their attention,"_ Alisa said. The group below her stirred with one of Rudolf's guards broke away to investigate the noise. Fie hid behind a crate when he waved a flashlight in the darkness.

"Aim for the one coming to investigate. Then, cover me while I take out the rest," she said as she swung towards a catwalk with her grappling hook. She crouched down and observed her targets.

Contrary to what she boasted, she never had supernatural night vision. It was only as good as everyone else's— or at least, she thought it was. How would she know how other people saw in the dark? She could see fine, so she just assumed they could as well. What's the big deal about it?

"I'm normal, right?"

Her eyes locked on to Mine Chief Rudolf, bound and forced to kneel. He was thankfully alive and well, but she could see a few contusions on his exhausted face.

A muzzle dug into his temple. She growled.

The man holding the rifle was none other than the same man who had tricked her. The entire reason she felt so messed up. The urge to just shoot the bastard where he stood was overwhelming to the point that her hands came up to her weapons on instinct.

A groan of pain from the old man beside him brought her back to her senses. She blinked away in disgust.

She clenched her fists to rein in her emotions. It wasn't worth it. They had to save Rudolf. All else mattered little. The RMP and Provincial Army would come in guns blazing as soon as he was safe. She just needed to be patient.

She turned towards the guard who had come to investigate the incessant screaming.

"Here's fine?"

_"Yeah. Stay where you are. Don't move your head."_

To her words, Fie nodded. She breathed in deeply before affixing her gaze to the lone man.

* * *

The ARCUS hanging from her bow glimmered with blue light. Alisa closed her eyes and nocked another arrow. The quartz in her gloves shone in dazzling fire and the string pulled tautly.

"Charging orbal energy…" With a chant, runes of light channeled the element of space into her bow, imbuing the arrow with a radiant luster.

Hair swaying in the wind, Alisa exhaled. The combat link between the two ARCUS' resonated with a clink. Their thoughts, their emotions, their actions, and their senses had become one. She focused.

First, it was darkness. Then, bit by bit, a picture formed. She was on a catwalk. A distance in front of her, she saw Rudolf, bound and bruised as he knelt, a gun threatened to his head. Besides him, she saw the two holding him hostage, their faces jeering at the old chief. Down below, she saw the guard who had split off from the group move towards the suspended jaeger.

Her mark was set.

Heart beating still, all her anger and all her hope flowed into the arrow. Alisa tilted her bow ever so slightly. The whirling of orbal energy in her hands stopped. The man in her mind's vision came to a halt.

She fired.

Like a shooting star gleaming in the night sky, the bolt of light tore through the darkness that enveloped the mines. Its sharp whistle was cut short when it ricocheted off the wall of a steel container. The arrowhead dug into the concrete floor, right next to Alisa's target.

An instant later, the ground below the arrow lit up like the sun. It spread in a radial, several golden disks forming at the edges. The disks rotated, spiraling inwards, its radiance intensifying. The disks joined at the center before bursting in pure energy. The golden vibrations launched the man upwards with a boom, sending him flying several arge into the air.

A silver silhouette leaped from the nearby railing. Fie caught the man by his jacket before turning. Gyrating in the air, she slammed the man's skull into the pavement in a flying takedown. A final kick to his forehead knocked him out.

"Rudolf, eyes down!" Fie shouted. Jumping back, a stun grenade bounced off the walls.

A moment afterward, detonations of light bombarded the enclosed space. The two jaegers shouted and cursed. They clawed at the stabbing pain in their eyes. Her targets blinded, she slid towards the arsehole holding the gun to the mine chief, tripping the unlucky shithead unto his back. Winds engulfed her form. Vengeance flashed in her eyes. Fie somersaulted over the soon-to-be-dead jaeger, the rush of gale-force hurricanes on her legs deafening the surroundings.

He shrieked.

Squalls of wind and thunder blasted outward. The floor underneath shattered from the impact of a knee crushing his face.

His partner had barely regained his senses when the violent gust swept him off. Quickly standing up, a burning twinge stabbed at his side. His leather armor melting from the heat, he tried to grab the flaming arrow jutting out of him. An orbal bullet flicked his entire arm away.

Not even on her feet yet, Fie continued to batter the man with a hail of shots. The concussive projectiles ragdolled the jaeger, bruising his entire torso. A charged shot slammed him to a nearby container.

Tasting the gravel on the floor, he tried to get up again right as an arrow buried itself only a few rege away from his head. He stared at the deadly projectile in disbelief before he gave in to unconsciousness.

"You okay… ?" Fie asked. Knifing the restraints, she cradled him in her arms.

"Y-Yeah… i-is it over…?" Rudolf stammered out. His hearty voice cackled from the strain. He tried to open his bruised eyes "Thank you, Miss Fie…"

His kind words felt like a slap of guilt. She forced a smile on her face if only to bring a little comfort to the old chief.

_"How is he…?"_ Alisa asked.

"He's fine. How long do we have?"

_"Three minutes. Get out of there before then. I'll meet you halfway."_

Not wasting any time, Fie dug through her inventory and pulled out a flask of water and a Tearal Balm. It wouldn't completely heal the man, but it would stop the pain long enough for them to escape.

Rudolf accepted the drink while she tended to his black eye. The balm stopped the swelling and reverted his purple skin to its normal color. Rudolf wheezed out a cough. Seems his throat would still be a problem, though. Red stained her white coat as she wiped the blood from his lips.

"Can you walk?" Fie lifted the injured man to his feet, supporting him on her shoulder. He tilted his head downwards in a half nod.

Surveying the surrounding area, they slowly limped to safety. Her eyes darted to every corner, her free hand trained on her weapon. She heard the shouts of the remaining jaegers. It echoed in the steel corridors. The dark blue darkness above held no comfort. They hid and moved whenever possible, the small girl guiding the man through the escape route they had mapped out. They had reached an intersection before heeled footsteps came running closer. Unsheathing her pistol, Fie took aim at the source before sighing. The familiar clanking of chains gave away the person's identity.

Approaching them, Alisa wiped the sweat covering her brow, her blonde hair disheveled in a golden mess. She leaned towards Rudolf and inspected her precious employee.

"Thank goodness you're okay… I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you. You're an important part of the Reinford Group and your work is invaluable too-"

"Save it," Fie interrupted. "His throat is damaged. Let's get him to safety first."

"Oh- Right… Sorry."

* * *

With Fie scouting ahead Alisa's guidance, along with Rudolf's memory of the surrounding area, they were able to sneak through to the exit without incident. The exhausted mine chief collapsed onto a chair of their designated safe room. The orbal lights flickered back on as the backup generators now supplying electricity back into the mines.

Rudolf wiped his face with his towel as he accepted another flask of water from the two women. His throat had healed enough to allow him to speak, but it still put a strain on his old vocal cords.

"Thank you…for rescuing me..."

"Of course we would. I would never let anything happen to you." Her orbment glowing blue, she cast another Tear spell to his injuries. The skin revitalized itself to a pinkish hue. Rudolf took another gulp to soothe his throat.

"W-what will you do about the terrorists…?" he asked.

"Distract them," she said. The magazines of her gunswords flew off with a pop. She glanced towards the exit. "I'll try to keep the jaegers busy. You two wait here until the RMP arrive."

"But Fie that's…" Alisa said, her worried eyes glaring at the girl.

"You need to stay here and keep him safe. There are no buts this time, Alisa."

"... fine."

Accepting her response, she made for the door.

"Be careful…"

Hearing it, Fie smiled. She held her thumb up as a reply before dashing off.

"You've got a good friend there," Rudolf said. He relaxed further into his seat. He'd just have to trust his life to the two women.

"..."

"Miss…?"

Red sullen eyes met his gaze. "We weren't always like that…" Alisa said.

"What'd you mean…?"

"We used to be good friends… and then… we weren't." Alisa sat down beside the man, her head drooping in the memory.

"There was… an incident," she said. "We couldn't see each other eye to eye after it. She ignored me, I ignored her… Whenever we were in the same room, she just acted like I didn't exist. And then THAT would make me agitated."

"The shouting would start… and it won't stop until one of us left. It even got to the point where we hit each other out of spite. We were essentially back to being strangers to one another."

Her eyes quivered shut.

"...I hated her. She was the reason I felt so depressed. She was the reason I felt so frustrated. Why I was so mad with myself. I… I wanted to end it all then and there… because of her."

Tears stung her eyes. She stopped speaking, the memory of it all too much for her heart to bear.

"But then…" Alisa looked up, a gentle curve back on her lips.

"But then one day, she just walked right up to my face. She gave me a slap and then went on her knees and apologized." A light chuckle escaped her lips as she caressed her cheek unconsciously.

"Honestly, it was just so sudden that I couldn't make heads or tails of it. I asked what she was apologizing for, she said it was about everything. That all of it was her fault alone. She said she was too immature and that she had disregarded all of my feelings when she acted as she did."

"She said that… even if I hated her, she was fine with it. She loved me as a friend and as a family, and nothing would ever change that."

Alisa stood up, her usual cheerful energy radiating from her smile.

"Her words… they were so sincere, so heartfelt, I was left agape. I was still angry at her, but my heart screamed at me 'I WANT to be friends with her!'"

"So… I accepted her apology. And we never looked back." Alisa giggled again, her tears streaming down her cheeks.

"It was about that boy huh?"

"Hehe… you got me."

Rudolf guffawed, before regretting it later when his throat ached.

"Whenever there's a feeling that she's going to go away and never come back… I get worried. I never want to lose such an amazing friend ever again. That goes for you too, Rudolf."

Alisa grinned at him. "You're an important friend and family member to the Reinford Group. After this, I promise you, you can take as long as a vacation you want. Paid."

"I'm afraid I would have to pass on that, Miss," Rudolf said. He stared fondly at his young boss.

"Huh?"

"I think I've experienced enough adventure in my life if you know what I'm saying," he leaned his head back as the dredges of sleep invaded his mind.

"... oh." A melancholy returned to the chairwoman. Alisa took a few moments to let the thought sink in before her eyes perked up once more.

"Then, as Co-Chairman of the Reinford Group, I, Alisa Reinford, humbly accept your retirement, Mine Chief Rudolf."

"Thank you, Miss- no. Alisa." He gave one last smile to the woman. He fell asleep soon after.

"Thank you too…" Alisa blanketed the exhausted old man with her jacket before kissing him on the forehead.

Alisa stood taller in the dim room. Her orbal bow and ARCUS beeped alive indicating their battery was fully charged. Reaching for her ARCUS, she dialed the number for the Railway Military Police.

Her fingers were punching on the very last digits before a call interrupted her. It was from Fie.

_"Alisa, how's Rudolf?"_ she asked immediately.

"He's asleep."

_"Good. Can you come over to the station quickly? There's something you need to see…"_ With that last sentence, the call ended.

Confusion dawned on Alisa's face before a mountainous rumble shook the mines, staggering her off her feet.

She reached for her bow as a robotic cry echoed through the entirety of the Nortia Province.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER IX - Thunderbird**

* * *

Fie adored birds. She wished she could be one someday. They could fly, go wherever they want, and take naps whenever they want without all the petty responsibilities and limitations of human society. Zephyr's logo was that of a bird too so their coolness factor was right up there alongside cats. Also, they fly.

Fie also admired robots. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she was just as fascinated by them as Alisa, the resident machine geek. While not particularly interested in creating or piloting them, she was incredibly curious in nature and was very much curious about how their systems functioned. So much so that she had only barely masked her joy when Rean let her inside Valimar. Or that time he gave her the full hands-on course on how to operate a Soldat. Being sat on his lap during both occasions helped matters though.

Those cockpits were _tight_.

Fie liked robots. Fie loved birds.

_Giant robot birds_, though… Not so much. Yet.

"W-What the hell is THAT?!" Alisa helpfully shouted, voicing their shared thoughts on the mechanical creature right before their eyes.

"A giant robot bird and it's not friendly!" Grabbing her arm, Fie carried her to safety, right before an iron beak jammed into the entranceway of the station. Alisa landed on her rear while bladed talons swiped fruitlessly in their direction.

A shrill cry bellowed from the robot's mouth. The mechanized bird kicked off the destroyed entrance and hovered in place. Wiry legs towered above them. Twice the height of a Drakkhen Soldat, black and slate grey plating covered its appendages like feathered swords. Red pipes, hoses, and cables gridded its torso. The neon tubes jutting out of it's back and thighs hummed with orbal energy.

"An archaism?" Alisa asked.

**"You like it?"** a cocky voice said from within the beast. **"She's called the 'Thunderbird'. Arts-proof and nearly 40 arge in wingspan, these babies can lift things several times their weight. Originally built as a countermeasure for your precious Soldats. Watch this."**

A dozen turbines underneath its colossal wings burst with jet-like flames. Perching atop massive steel containers, its steel talons carried the load with impossible ease...

... and hurled it straight at them.

"Wah— !"

Yelping, Alisa flung herself to the side just as the several torim projectiles banged and crashed where she once stood. Fie splintered off in the opposite direction and dodged a whip-like tail smashing towards her. The compound shook as its various structures collapsed from the attacks.

Two black cylinders on the archaism's shoulders spun with a mechanical whirl.

"Hide!" Fie ordered, already ducking under a steel crate. Alisa shot up to her feet and followed suit when a large hail of orbal bullets destroyed the concrete floor. Its magazines empty and recharging, the Thunderbird soared out of reach.

"It's unfair how many armaments that thing has. I mean, what the hell are those specs?!" the techno-geek Alisa wondered aloud.

Fie was curious, but not amused. "I don't suppose you have your Orbal gear with you? We could use the firepower."

Another squawk echoed from overhead causing them to flinch.

"It's on vacation!" Alisa called out.

"_Great,_" Fie snapped back. "Got another plan then?"

Peeking out of cover, Alisa took a moment to observe the automaton. It circled in the air, the black and red frame shining under the powerful orbal lights, screeching menacingly. Running was an option, but that would mean the criminals would escape. It's also unlikely the RMP would have a countermeasure against such a flying behemoth. The mines shook. Rocks and debris fell and blocked the station entrance.

Clenching her bow and ARCUS, Alisa resigned herself to fight. They were going to have to down the thing at least, lest the entire mountain collapses— along with everything inside. "Get its attention."

"On it."

Winding up, Fie leaped up to a higher platform before leaping again when the archaism swooped above. Her grappling hook caught one of its wings, stringing her along for the ride. Massive talons swiped at her but she had let go of the rope at the last moment and fired another hook towards the robot's chest.

The beast's other claw tried to sever her face. Thinking fast, Fie shot her pistols, the recoil steering her away. Silver hair danced through the air as she shot, dodged, and flipped her way through the creature's attacks.

Alisa stood atop a catwalk, ruby eyes scanning the archaism thrashing in the air. "Okay, Alisa… Look for a weak point." Adjusting the frame of her glasses, a kaleidoscope of colors lit up the parts of the machinery. Fire orbal energy coursed through its body, the turbines with the wind. Taking her chance when it flew overhead, she fired an arrow and pierced one of the engines on its wings. Not enough to break it, she realized.

They're going to have to get creative.

_"Fie, the turbines on its wings control its flight pattern. If we reduce the airflow enough, it'll be forced to burn more fuel to stay afloat and— "_

"In English!" Fie shouted.

Through her ARCUS, she heard Alisa sigh. _"Take out the engines on its wings. That might send it back to the ground."_

"Roger." Reeling her grappling hook, Fie swung to the bird's back. It squawked in robotic pain when her gunswords into its thick hide. It tossed, turned and rolled in a bid to eject the unwelcome rider.

**"Get off."**

"Woah— " Fie held back her screams and gripped on for dear life, a barrel roll almost flinging her off. They ascended higher. A crane passed by and she peeked to the side.

"Oh-kay, that's high up…" she reassured herself, the high altitude winds beating on her face. Her scarf fluttered as the giant avian flew up even higher. Fie gulped and prayed to Aidios that the pilot would calm down. She wasn't acrophobic— it was just painful to think how sore her landing would be if she fell off.

Balancing on the steel plates, she lunged to her right, plunging her daggers once more. After another sharp turn and a roll, Fie clambered down to one of its jet engines. Her thumb slid across the dotted lines of her orbment, engulfing her legs in brilliant flames. Every kick at the engine melted off bits and pieces of it. She kicked again, harder, finally dislodging it and sending it crashing into the ground.

Some altitude lost, the Thunderbird shook and rattled. It veered to the right. Flaming arrows disintegrated an engine on the opposite end of the wing. A circle of glowing orbs appeared, and a second after it spun into a small dark hole, tearing through the fabric of space. The artificial gravity plucked the weakened mechanism from its joint before crushing it into tiny pieces.

The beast rammed itself uncontrollably to a cliffside, causing a miniature rockslide from the impacts. With another thunderous screech, It hovered in place, giving Fie some momentary peace. Orbal guns turned towards the archer and fired mercilessly. Alisa ducked back to cover as the steel containers clanged from the ricocheting bullets.

Not wanting to be outdone, Fie zipped down her coat and fished out the sticks of dynamite she always carried. With a single bound she planted them to the rest of the engines, firing a grappling hook again to its chest. Her thumb pressed the trigger, and powdery explosions bombarded the Thunderbird's wing. It flapped helplessly, trying to regain its balance.

Massive squalls of wind almost blew her off. She swung around, eyes half-closed from the immense pressure. Her hands almost slipped when the beast ascended higher again, far into the sky. The red orb housed in its chest flared with surges of fire orbal energy. Crimson veins covered the dark steel plates.

Reaching the peak of its ascent, the archaism roared.

Fie's eyes widened in shock. "Divebomb!"

Alisa looked up and saw a bright flash through her shades. Dread sunk onto her shoulders. She ran. "Woah Woah Woah!"

Red hue saturated her vision. A flaming meteor accelerated right at her. Her legs carrying her as fast as she could to the inactive train, she tossed a miniature orbment in her hand. The device glimmered in yellow light and a ring of golden mist manifested.

With a crackling boom, the steel comet crashed down, fulminating the very earth. Debris and containers were sent flying as a column of ethereal fire erupted from its crater. It expanded outwards, scorching the surroundings. Heavy steel vessels banging on each other deafened the entire station, the resulting wildfire growing ever fiercely.

Alisa tumbled through the portal and rolled to the side, barely avoiding the burst of heat emanating from the other side of the train. It disappeared a moment after.

Spatial Projection— a technology developed in Calvard for the special agents unit 'HERCULES', specifically for their unique Fifth Generation battle orbment LAMBDA. Alisa had managed to replicate the teleportation effects on her own, but it was limited to a single use and could only translocate a few arge at a time. She only had one, too.

Heart racing and lungs heaving from the threat of being roasted alive, she got up slowly. The smell of smoldering material and fabric irritated her nose. She brushed a hand through her hair, and her eyes turned into slits.

_"You okay?"_ asked Fie's worried voice her ARCUS.

"... It burned my hair."

_"Ooh. It's definitely fried chicken now. Wanna step it up?"_

The rustic smell of burning iron filled her lungs. Alisa breathed it all in deeply, shaking away the metallic reverberations ringing in her ears. Ruby red eyes gleamed through pink shades. They glanced towards the towering structures in the distance.

"See those cranes? Take 'em down," she said.

_"Understood."_

* * *

A red beam of light burst out from behind the freight train, demolishing the distant crane in one hit. Large chunks of rock and iron spilled from its cargo. It fell to the ground, sending off dust and smoke along the blazing ground.

Just before the archaism landed, Fie had hidden in a small cavity between its body and wings— not entirely unscathed though. She removed her tattered and singed coat, content with the fact that her scarf was miraculously untouched.

Her eyes glinted with the bright green glow of her ARCUS.

With an explosion of wind, Fie rocketed up and delivered a diving slash at the Thunderbird's head with both daggers. A ray of lightning shot from the orbment chained to her wrist, not damaging it the least, but it knocked the creature back.

**"How are you still ALIVE?!"** the pilot shouted, his cockiness replaced by exasperation.

She smirked. Past orbal guns firing at her, she slid through the beast's legs and made a beeline for one of the cranes. Metal plates clanked as it turned towards her. It flapped once, jumping in the air and slamming talon after talon to crush its prey.

Like a shifting blur, Fie dodged through its attacks. The base of the crane was within view, so she shifted her feet and jumped— just as a steel beak pierced the pavement underneath. Grabbing a beam, she climbed up the metal frame. The Thunderbird swiped at her, sending the entire crane crashing down. It collapsed and the boulders from its cargo toppled to the ground like tiny meteorites. Dust and steel flew everywhere.

Fie soared through the wreckage and skewered the archaism's eye. It flailed left to right. From her guns, she blasted several orbal shots point-blank, the robotic wail screeching louder.

Damaged turbines whirred to life, sending the bird into the air once more— albeit gracelessly. It smashed against walls and platforms, struggling to fly.

"Turn, turn!" Fie lurched and attempted to steer the frenzied beast. The piercing cries hurt her ears, but she pulled harder, clutching on as it plowed through structure after structure and grinding against the cavernous walls.

Blazing energy burst from its chest.

_"NOW!"_

On Alisa's signal, Fie kicked off the Thunderbird's head, right before It rammed the next crane. By virtue of the Goddess, wires snagged on its wings and entangled its legs. It screeched and squawked, but it couldn't fly free.

Two gleaming blue stars. Fie chanted her art in the air, Alisa on the ground. Their hearts and minds as one, their eyes shot open, and they shouted in unison.

"Ragna Vortex!" "Dark Matter!"

Lightning cracked, the burning flames making way for tempestuous winds. Gravity ceased to function, lifting the mass of debris littering the entire compound several arge. It spiraled inwards to a giant black hole just as a hurricane formed and blew the rocks in every direction. Earth and steel buffeted the Thunderbird's body. One after another, the platings were crushed from the intense pressure. Sparks flew and the armor chipped off. Its wails were drowned out by the continuous battering of iron to its frame.

Fie landed on a floating platform. ARCUS whirring once more, the last of its EP imbued her with the essence of Wind and Time. "Alisa!"

"Right!" A flick of her wrist and Alisa's bow transformed, growing pairs of angelic wings. Fire and Light gathered into her palm. She glared at the furious cyclone encompassing her target. Through her glasses, the archaism's weak points illuminated in lucent colors.

Fie dashed through the tempest. With the speed of Sylphid, she struck with both her swords, slicing behemoth's chest. Rebounding off a steel container, she launched herself again, severing a cable highlighted in their combat link with a sharp slash. And another, and another. Lime-green streaks diced the archaism as she cut through, again and again,

A mighty roar, infernal flames engulfed the robotic beast. The heat burned off its restraints and it flew up, preparing its dive-bomb.

Fie retreated behind Alisa. She nocked an arrow and a radiant circle formed at the tip. She pulled the string farther.

The Thunderbird bellowed out a cry. Alisa fired her bow.

"GABRIEL ARROW!"

A spiraling torrent of pure fire collided against the archaism as it descended. Blinding scarlet blasted in the entire mines. Her shot scorched the orb on the beast's chest, melting off the metal platings from the sheer heat. Its dive halted, the Thunderbird staggered back from the force.

The ray dispersed and orange lines fissured from the cracks in the armor. Molten steel sizzled as the fire overflowed its wirings Its massive wings flapped desperately, crashing it into the ground. The incandescent core shimmered dangerously.

Fie pulled her partner to the ground.

An explosion shook the Sachsen Iron Mines, the fiery shockwave blowing them off their feet. Fire and shrapnel rained down on their heads as a shrill, mechanical cry echoed in the mountains.

The Thunderbird fell into the ashes.

They rolled to a stop, Fie sighed, the two of them laying on their backs on the warm pavement, weapons cluttered to their sides.

Like a sweet child, Alisa cheered. "We did it!"

"Good job Alisa," Fie said, bumping their fists together. "Let's not do this again."

"Agreed."

* * *

The Railway Military Police arrived shortly after they had defeated the archaism. A second Thunderbird, in their words, attacked their barricade just as they were preparing to mobilize. Gobsmacked by the sudden appearance of an avian monstrosity, it successfully breached their defenses before flying off to Aidios knows where.

From the report, however, it didn't appear to be carrying a large amount of iron. That earned a sigh of relief from the stressed-out RF chairwoman.

Fie nibbled on her carrot stick as she watched the RMP salvage the scraps from the Thunderbird. Her eyes quivered, waiting in anxiety for the news. It came when an auspicious man in uniform approached her.

The man saluted. "Ma'am, allow me to thank you in part of the RMP. Your services shall be duly noted and a reward will be forwarded to the Bracer Guild in full recognition of your efforts to save the lives of the hostages— "

"The pilot?" she interrupted.

Hesitating, the man averted his gaze. "Gone."

"... !" Fie glowered at him. A heavy pang of remorse bit on her and her lungs felt constricted.

"His body was not found among the rubble, so what happened to it is anyone's guess. He might have ejected before his machine went down... or he was burned to ashes alongside it."

His eyes shone with sympathy for the bracer. "It is also entirely possible he wasn't inside at all if that helps."

"... Thank you," Fie said, sulking away without another word.

Why should she feel guilty? After all, she's killed hundreds of people during her days as a jaeger. She was desensitized to the bloodshed. What was one terrorist's life compared to those of the many innocents she's had to execute?

That train of thought felt wrong. So very wrong. Guilt welled up in her stomach again. She sighed. Either way, she was going to have to report the details of the events in her handbook. Whatever consequences it had, if any, she would deal with later.

Her hand reached into her vest pocket.

"... Huh?"

* * *

Red eyes glared at the shoulder-length blonde woman glaring back in the mirror.

"Almost done, milady," Sharon said, brandishing a pair of scissors like an expert hairstylist. Which she was, of course.

Alisa turned away from her reflection with a huff. Her gorgeous golden locks were grotesquely burned at the tips. They had to go.

She distracted herself by listening in to the reports by the RMP. To her relief, they found Rudolf safely tucked away sleeping in their safe room. They took it upon themselves to bring him immediate medical attention. Other than that, four jaegers were handed over to the authorities and will be at their discretion on how to deal with them. Interrogated by the Intelligence Division maybe. The other terrorists that were in the freight station had apparently fled through the train tracks when the giant archaisms raised havoc.

The remains of the Thunderbird, however, would be claimed by the Reinford Group and then and sent to analysts. Alisa held her own suspicions about its origins, but they would have to wait until a full report comes through.

Her mind wandered back to the situation she was dealt with. As chairman, caretaker of the Royal Family mines, and that of the massive, massive amount of paperwork she would have to read through. Fixing up equipment, ordering replacements for the damaged structures, cranes, containers, Rudolf's retirement— among other things.

Despair. "Ugh… so much for the holiday season."

"My lady, do not be so glum. The holiday season is the time for radiant smiles like yours," Sharon said, smiling herself.

"Yeah… but all this work…"

"Oh, don't worry, my lady. You will only have to deal with a portion of those. After all, a professional arrived not long ago."

"A professional?"

Heels clicked on concrete. Alisa turned to the source, her eyes glinted in surprise and shock when a familiar voice spoke.

"Sharon, after that I want a vehicle prepared immediately. Cancel all appointments I have for tomorrow too," the short blonde-haired woman demanded, her immaculate white suit showing not a wrinkle or a speck of dust in sight. A violet scarf draped over her scowl. Gray shades covered her annoyed expression.

"It irritates me, but this mess should take priority," Irina Reinford said.

"As you wish, Madam Chairman."

"M-Mother? You're back from Calvard?!"

"Why, yes— unless your eyesight is on the list of your many failures for today."

Alisa's head drooped. She did fail quite a lot, she'll admit— but there was something bitter about not seeing her mother for over a month, only to be met with a scolding as soon as she got back home.

On the pragmatic side, at least she'd have much-needed help considering—

"It looks good on you."

…

"Huh?" Alisa looked up. Irina stood, back towards her.

"It looks good. Shorter hair," Irina said before walking off, heels clicking with the stunned silence that followed.

A blush suffused her cheeks. Sharon giggled.

Standing up, Alisa ran a hand through her hair. Supposed she can get used to short, at least for a little while.

She was about to follow her mother when a flustered bracer bumped into her at the door. Sweat trickling on her brow, Fie brushed past her and darted into the room.

"Fie? What's wrong?"

No answer. Fie floundered about desks and tables in a noticeable panic. After a fruitless search, the stoic girl let out an uncharacteristically frustrated yell.

"Fie?!"

She stared back in horror.

"My bracer notebook… it's gone…"

* * *

A hooded man sat on the edge of the cliff. Legs dangling idly, he flipped through the pages of the curious little handbook he picked up.

"Fie Claussell… B rank," he said. "Heh, she'd be ecstatic when she finds out."

The mountain breeze tousled his bright yellow hair. He took note of the names that appeared in the journal. To what end he would use it for, even he wasn't sure— but it was good to have handy at times.

He adjusted his hood when a strong gust flung it back. The giant mechanical bird perched close to him. A burly man dressed in a red and black flight suit jumped down from the archaism, his bearded face crinkling like an old geezer.

"You… You said you were going to cover for us!" the angry man yelled. He held the man by his collar, muscular arms lifting him up.

The man's hood fell down, revealing feminine facial features and piercing blue eyes that stared bemusedly.

"You were mistaken. I merely said that you would have our support. I never specified to what extent. Today's failure lay solely upon your shoulders," he said with his usual prick.

"So this was all just a test for you, huh?! A test for your new 'dolls.'"

He grinned. "It appears you are more perceptive than I would have first thought. I am honestly impressed."

"Why you cocky little…" The older man let go of his shirt and backpedaled to the robot. "Then how about I test them out on you?"

Taking out his remote controller, the Thunderbird stirred to life. It spread its massive wings and jumped into the air. Hovering high above, it pointed its orbal guns at the blond man.

In a flash, one of the creature's wings was severed. Navy sapphire fur glimmering in the darkness, the great white wolf held the dismembered limb in its jaws. It growled threateningly.

"What the hell?!"

A bang. Two large blue orbal balls shot the archaism in its other wing. It exploded, freezing the appendage in glaciers of ice. A moment later, a gleaming laser cut through it like brittle stone.

The Thunderbird screeched as it fell down the mountainside. Its colossal frame disappeared in the dark abyss below the two men.

"Who— " Before he could utter another word, the wolf pounced on him. He shrieked as its giant claw slammed, pinning him to the ground. The blond man watched in amusement.

A blue-haired girl approached the two. She aimed her orbal cannon at the blond man shaking his head.

"I knew there was something not right, so we rushed here as fast as we could," Tio said. "I suppose it's compensation enough that I chanced upon you. There was only one way those terrorists could have gotten an Imperial Family seal of approval."

Strolling towards him, her golden eyes pierced the darkness. She stared him down. "So tell me, did 'The Fool' help you with hacking the orbal net? Or did you learn it all by yourself?"

"When did a dirty guinea pig earn enough pride to preach about hard work?" the man asked. A smirk dusted his smug face. "After all, everything you are so proud of came from a measly drug."

Tio's eyes narrowed dangerously. She pressed on the trigger of her cannon.

**"He is taunting you. You know it within yourself his words do not ring true,"** Zeit said.

With deep breaths, she relaxed her grip but still pointed her weapon at the man. She walked closer, her words carrying her chilling disposition. As frosty as chips of absolute zero ice.

"What's your game? Enforcer No. XVIII, The Vermillion Monarch."

Deep blue eyes sparkled with glee, his smirk widening tenfold. His hands drew the red and gold saber from its royal sheath. Holding it close to his face, fire encircled the ground.

"Long… live… The Empire."

A firestorm surged outwards with the strike of his saber. Tio shielded her face from the heat just as a white tail protected her from most of the flames. The sudden outpouring of mana, however, dazed her senses. She fell to her knees.

The flames dissipated before it could burn the nearby trees. Tio shot back to her feet. Aeon systems functioning, she scanned the area for the man's whereabouts. Coward, she thought.

She ran towards the closest thing her scan had found. "Zeit, after them!" she ordered.

There was no response.

"... Zeit?"

Zeit stared far into the mountains. He turned his head to his human companion and spoke calmly. **"It is not wise to pursue the man."**

"Eh…?"

**"I have vowed that I would offer my assistance to you. But, today, we must err on the side of caution. The former prince had set into motion events which concern the leading powers of this continent. We, as bystanders, should not interfere more than what we already have, if we wish to preserve the peace you have worked so tirelessly to achieve."**

"..."

Tio glared. She glared at the distant clouds. She glared at the nearby trees. She glared at the ants crawling up her boots. She glared fiercely at the insubordinate pet she had fed expensive meat to.

She snapped.

"Bad Zeit! Bad dog!"

The Great Guardian of the Sept-Terrion gawked. Cheeks puffing, Tio pointed scoldingly at him.

He sighed. **"What a bother…"**

* * *

Aureole, Aureole, Great ring of light!

Thy mercy on my soul, thy blessing you have bestowed, I thank thee!

My back scorned, my mind ached,

My thoughts long for distant lands.

May my blood and my peer mourn me not

For my spirit lives free, soaring above this holy land.

Aureole, Aureole, Great ring of light!

Thy mercy on my soul, thy blessing you have bestowed, I thank thee!

Above azure abyss and white mist

Wondrous Liber Ark, my everlasting home

I bid thee farewell.

When fate wills it, I shall return.

Thy wings of light shall guide me,

North, towards the far land of shadow.

* * *

**You thought I forgot about those little snippets of lore, did you?**

**When I first started this fic, I wasn't planning of including him. But considering the title of the fic, I just HAD to.**

**So what'd you think? First Arc is done and I am planning to continue this long fic so feedback is well appreciated.**

**Btw I am sorry for the ripoff. But giant machine animals feel so natural to Kiseki lore for me. Massive thanks for Falcom JDK for coming up with epic boss music to listen to while writing. ****Suggestion? Eliminate Crisis for the first half, Tie a Link of Arcus for the second half.**

**Anyway, reviews, views, favs and follows are much appreciated.**

**See ya.**

**PS. I also got my AO3 invitation if you prefer reading there. I'll upload this fic there when I have the time.**


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER X: Runaway**

* * *

_Heimdallr - Railway Military Police Lieutenant Colonel's Office_

Calculated scratching of pen on stationary filled the noiseless room. The chilling breeze from the orbal air conditioner dropped the temperature further. Outside, the winter sun dawned on the horizon.

The sounds of writing stopped as the author palmed her face. Claire Rieveldt misspelled 'Rieveldt'.

Grabbing her mug, the glowering woman took a sip from her caffeinated drink. Sharp, pink eyes scrutinized the paragraphs for any and all spelling or grammar mistakes she may have committed. Perfectionism demanded that she scrap the article altogether.

Sky blue hair swayed in annoyance as Claire shook off her lack of sleep. She had not even the time to fix her ponytail when news of a terrorist attack reached her ears. It was resolved, without incident or casualty, by none other than members of Class VII- much to her relief; although, as usual, she was left to handle the repercussions of the RMP's _less_ than admirable performance during the whole ordeal.

By repercussions, she meant paperwork. Several riges worth of paperwork. She stared at the stack of documents organized neatly on the side of her table. The former Ironblood was still reeling from the fact that she was relegated to office duty as punishment for her crimes over a year ago.

She could empathize with Sara a little bit now.

A rhythmical knocking on her door jostled the overworked military officer back to her senses.

"Come in."

"Special delivery for one 'Icy Maiden'~" a redheaded man sang as he waltzed into the room, his white-gloved hands gesturing into a bow. He grinned as he placed a tray on the only desk in the room… on top of some very important documents.

Claire frowned at the assortment of sweets and pastries arranged cutely in front of her. "This wasn't what I asked for Lechter."

"Oh, I know. Buuut…" Lechter Arundel then held up three fingers. "3… 2… 1…"

Silence.

"Huh. That almost always works for Kloe."

"What do you take me for then? As a soldier, we're trained to keep our hunger in check during times of crisis," Claire said. She fiddled with a blue miniature cupcake in her fingers before taking a bite.

"Hey, nice choice," Lechter said while holding a similar piece of baked delicacy. "Cute, blue and tiny. Not to mention _tasty_. Reminds me of Millium."

The older sister Ironblood glared, "I know she's technically eighteen now... but don't make it sound so awkward."

She did admit it was tasty though.

"Anyway~ I have the good news and the bad news. Which you want first?" the intelligence officer asked.

Claire sighed. She eyed the monstrous stack of papers again while she spoke, "I suppose some good news would be appreciated."

"Guess what? The Governor approved of our little outing~"

"Huh? He did?"

"Yup. All that's left is the scheduling. Was gonna ask when are you gonna be free from… all this." Lechter gestured to the reports and documents strewn on the desk. "Has to be within the year though. Little Altina still has classes come January."

Claire munched on a black muffin with vanilla cream glazed on top. Her eyes turned glum, "Honestly… I'm not sure. And I really shouldn't… I can't just take a vacation on such short notice."

"Oh c' mon, don't be like that. Think about it. It'll just be you, me, and the two kids. We'll be like one big, happy family!"

"..."

After a few seconds of contemplation, a smile crept up the Icy Maiden's face. "That does sound lovely. I offer no promises, but I shall see what I can do."

"Hey good enough."

With youthful grins, the two siblings chuckled. One chaotic family trip to Mishelam every year never hurt anyone, right?

"And the bad news?"

Lechter's carefree visage faded as he fished out a folder within his coat. His smile turned neutral as he handed it over to the RMP official. "Looks like your little hunch was right. Went through some hoops to get all the info… but it seems like our _new ambassador_ has some dirt in his pockets after all."

The spy looked impassive, yet his eyes turned dangerous.

Claire sifted through the files. Her eyes narrowed to slits as certain terms appeared in the reports.

"Boy, this is gonna be one hell of a story to tell huh?" Lechter quipped. "An archaism the size of an airplane that can fly like a bird? Sounds pretty slick if you ask me."

"It's safe to assume then that Ouroboros is planning something."

"Not entirely though."

"Pardon?"

"Think about it. They weren't actually subtle the last time they came out to play. And there was only _one_ eyewitness account of Enforcer activity in all of Erebonia, minus the ones that were here to begin with, of course."

Lechter cut a cupcake into several slices to emphasize his point. He held up a piece with lots of cream to his lips. "And who would have guessed it was our own prodigal prince~"

"You think Cedric's acting alone?" Claire asked incredulously.

"Well, I'm no Gramps, so I can't tell what in Aidios' name Ouroboros would be up to these days," Lechter grumbled through a chewing mouth as he flicked away the crumbs on his gloves. "All I'm saying is, I think we're being a bit _too _fixated on painting them as masterminds all the time."

"So you believe there's more to this..." Claire stared at the enigmatic man. She bit into her brownie as realization dawned on her. "Is it because of your 'Perception'?"

"Bingo."

The woman hesitated. Biting her lip, she analyzed the implications Lechter had brought up. She knew about her fellow Ironblood's special "gift", but still, this would put a damper on the situation. The only other person of interest made future investigations dangerous given Erebonia's political climate.

"... I shall keep that in mind moving forward. Thank you, Lechter."

"Gonna interrogate our guy then?" Lechter said with an amused quirk of eyebrows.

"I will, however…" Pink eyes reviewed the carefully extracted documents in the folder. Claire tapped her finger impatiently on the desk.

"Ah, right. The Holidays."

"The ambassador will be back before the winter festivities... and I assure you, he will NOT be having a merry holiday," the Icy Maiden said.

"Mind if I join in?" the Scarecrow negotiated with a tactless grin.

"You may."

Claire chomped into her piece of cheesecake, its sweetness revitalizing her sleepless mind. Her cold eyes narrowed as her thoughts whirled.

_Now… what are _Calvardian Jaegers _doing in Erebonia?_

* * *

"I'm sorry we couldn't find your notebook Fie."

"It's okay. Not your fault," Fie said to her downcast friend. Alisa continued to look downwards as she twiddled with her newly cut hair.

She would've teased her classmate for it, but the listless bracer couldn't find the motivation to speak. The two of them, plus Sharon and volunteers from the RMP, spent the entire night and morning searching for the lost bracer handbook. Unfortunately, with all the wreckage caused by their fight, it was a pointless endeavor. It also could have been blown away to Aidios knows where in the mountains. Alisa had convinced her it would be too dangerous to attempt a search on the steep cliffs.

Fie doubled her scarf over her neck. The cold bit on her skin as her coat was seared beyond repair.

_Not your fault. It's mine. _

It was mid-afternoon in Roer Airport now. The bustle of the crowds filled their silence as nobles and commoners alike clamored to board the airship to Bareahard. The bracer could catch the last train to Legram if she hurried too.

She glanced back to the sulking chairwoman and her maid. She gave them an apologetic smile as she tried to think of something else to talk about. Her gaze fell to the leather-bound compound book in her hand. "You sure I can have this? Isn't it sentimental for you?"

Alisa regarded the book with a fond expression. A bit of life returned to her ruby eyes as she spoke, "Yeah, keep it… It might give you some luck."

Fie opened the pages to an image of a blonde haired magical girl. Her wide smile and exuberant personality shone through like the sun. She read, in monotone, the caption at the bottom:

"_I am Magical Girl Arisa! Helmdrr's Greatest Heroine! Let me show you my Powers of Love and Fortune~ "_

"Awawawa- No need to say it out loud!" a teary-eyed Alisa shouted. She covered her red cheeks as repressed memories of pure shame came flooding back to her.

A silvery giggle came from the younger woman, "Hehe… Thanks, Alisa. I'll be sure to read it."

A pair of hands clasped together on Fie's. Alisa squeezed lightly as she spoke, a compassionate glare on her face. "And that's not all. If there's anything I can do, just ask. We'll always be there for you."

Fie strained herself to look at her friend in the eyes. She couldn't hold it for long, as she averted her gaze a moment after. "…"

"Don't beat yourself up over it, okay? You don't owe us anything. We genuinely want to help you, if you ever need it."

"...Alright."

"_**This is the final boarding call for passengers of the Lusitania to Bareahard. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. I repeat…"**_

"Sorry I couldn't stay for longer," Fie said when the announcement finished.

"Don't mind that. This is more important for you, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Say hi to Laura for me." Alisa grinned as she handed her friend her satchel. Sharon gave the woman the case of her weapons too, along with a small box wrapped in fine cloth.

"Will do." Fie accepted the items with another smile. "Thanks for the lunch, Sharon. Take care of Alisa, okay?"

"I most definitely will. Have a safe journey, Lady Fie," the maid responded with an equally pleasant bow.

"I'm not some spoiled child you know!" Alisa huffed. She relaxed a second later and waved, "Bye Fie."

Fie nodded before she walked up to the entrance of the airliner. The ramp had started to disengage when an idea popped into her head.

Setting down her belongings for a little while, the small girl turned to her friends. Fie closed her eyes and exhaled.

Her hand shot up above her head. With a flourish, she rotated in place, her arms rolling around in a cutesy spin as her hair and scarf trailed from behind. Striking a pose with her fingers extended in a sideways V-shape in front of her eyes, she exclaimed:

"**Pretty Soldier of Love and Fortune, Magical Girl Fie bids thee farewell!**_**" **_

...

Alisa's red eyes blinked as a cheeky smile danced on her lips. She let loose a radiant laugh.

"See ya later, Alisa."

With a glow brimming with her usual energy, Alisa waved.

"Bye!"

* * *

A rumbling vibration woke Fie up from her nap. Looking out the airship window revealed a white sea of clouds painted over a deep orange sky.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she fished out her ARCUS and saw that she had received a new orbal electronic mail.

Re: FIE CLAUSSELL

From: SHARON KREUGER

Subject: (none)

(blank)

Attached was a single image.

Nostalgia washed over her as the dark brick walls of her old Thors dormitory appeared on the screen. In the middle of the room stood her blonde friend in front of a mirror. She held what appears to be Emma's orbal staff in her grip. Through the reflection, Fie could see a hand forming the iconic V-shape gesture as the girl imitated her favorite heroine. A beaming smile illuminated Alisa's face.

Fie chuckled heartily as she saved the candid photo. Devious, but hilarious; Sharon did have her own way of cheering people up. She sent a reply to the mischievous woman.

"Thanks, Sharon."

Not a minute after sending her thanks, Fie received another email from the dutiful maid. It had an image attachment as well.

Re: FIE CLAUSSELL

From: SHARON KREUGER

Subject: (none)

:)

The picture revealed a different girl striking the quintessential 'magical girl' pose. In the backdrop was a dark blue airship stationed in a busy airport.

What was peculiar about the snapshot was that the woman thoroughly embarrassing herself in public seemed _awfully_ familiar to Fie. She wore a white top with a beige-colored vest and skirt combo. The blue-green scarf draped over the girl's neck tastefully complemented her attire. Wild, flowing silver hair swayed with the wind as sharp, lime-green eyes peeked through her fingers.

Fie closed her ARCUS.

Let it be known that Bracers are paragons of virtue. They are the epitome of patience and are renowned for their almost limitless mental fortitude. Thus, the urban legend '_The Moaning of the Lusitania'_ -definitely- did not originate from the mortified wailing of a silver-haired bracer.

* * *

"I'm afraid there's not much I can do, Fie," a youthful male voice said.

"..." Fie looked away.

The bespectacled receptionist regarded his colleague with a gentle smile. "As you know, a Bracer notebook serves as the official way to record details about your jobs. Both current and finished. More than that, it…"

Fie glared at the man. Miles adjusted his glasses as he continued; his eyes shut as he avoided the woman's stern gaze. "More than that, it serves as secondary documentation of your accomplishments. Without your notebook for cross-checking, the guild won't officially recognize your achievements."

Her tongue clicked as she clenched her fists, the words stabbing through her heart. A simple mistake, that was all it was. Careless, even. Maybe more so recently.

"I'm sorry, Fie... I knew how close you were."

"It's alright." She sighed. Fie spoke carefully as the disappointment trickled into her words. "Maybe I'll get A-rank next year."

She frowned. The promotion process for A-rank in the Bracer Guild was a lot stricter than lower tiers. For starters, the bracer must submit all current and previous bracer notebooks in his or her possession. It meant that, without constantly documenting an accurate report in her journal, Fie would never get past B-rank. Sara had drilled _that_ into her head.

The second ruling was that the guild would only check an A-rank applicant's progress biannually. This was set as a deterrent in order to weed out those lazy few that frequently shirk on their duties. The more achievements an applicant rakes in during those six months, the better their chances for promotion.

Her biannual report was scheduled for the end of the year.

Not to mention, losing an essential log of information such as her notebook would have reflected _wonderfully_ on her résumé.

Miles handed a nondescript notepad to her, the gentle smile never once left his face. "For now, you can log your activities in that while you wait for a replacement."

Fie stared at the small item, her mind laughing at the incredulity of it all. "How long…?"

"Two to three days. I'll call the Leman Branch now to have them sort it out right away."

"Thanks, Miles."

"What will you be doing now then?" the receptionist asked. "There are some requests on the board if you're up for it."

"Maybe tomorrow," the bracer said.

Fie glanced around at the empty guild hall. It was still as barren as when Bracers were still ostracised from the Empire. A tacky sofa and a few footstools were the only means of comfort in the wide room. Droplets of water leaked through the wood as the old and dilapidated guild house withstood the humid Legram climate. The various requests crowding the bulletin board was a pleasant sight, however.

Her lips curved ever so slightly.

Miles relaxed as he grinned back at the girl. "If you're staying, then maybe you could help me out on a little something."

"Hm?"

"To be perfectly honest, you suddenly arriving here brings great joy to my heart. I was afraid I was going to have to handle this _super secret, super important _and _super special _request by myself. It came straight from the Viscountess!" Miles exclaimed. His hand curled to his chest in relief.

Lime-green eyes narrowed. "Can't you make it any LESS obvious you're just manipulating me?" an affronted Fie panned. Toval _had _warned her about Miles' tendency to dump work on desperate junior bracers. To be fair, they probably should have known better than to trust the shifty-eyed man.

"Sorry, sorry~ I didn't mean it that way." the receptionist defused. "I wasn't lying about the request though. Interested?"

Fie eased up as well. It did pique her curiosity somewhat, plus, she'd need the work. She pocketed the pathetically small notepad as she shrugged. "...Fine. Don't have anything to lose anyway. What you got?"

"Great! As I said, this was a request from her lordship herself. You're gonna have to ask her for all the details."

"_Laura_ did?"

"Yup. The long and short of it is that she's hiring an escort to help bodyguard… a certain person of interest." Miles held out a pamphlet for the younger woman. "I'm sure you're aware of Legram's winterly festival, right?"

"Sorta. Something to do with old celebrations of Animism… or something." _Sorry, Emma. Didn't mean to sleep through your expositions, _Fie thought to herself. Thank goodness Celine wasn't around to nag at her.

"That's close enough," Miles said. "This client will be staying in Legram for the duration of the festivities, which, coincidentally, ends in two days."

"Seems important. Got any idea as to who?" Fie asked.

A snicker burst on the dark-haired man's face. Miles shook his head as he smirked at the girl. "She'll be coming here tomorrow. You'll just have to find out then~"

"Welp, that's certainly ominous."

Fie let out a resigned sigh. She was going to stay in Legram regardless, so the excitement was very much welcome. She'd even get to participate in the festival if time permitted it. "Whatever... I'll take it." _In for a mira, as they say._

"Excellent! I'll inform the Viscountess right away."

"No need. I'll tell her myself."

"Oh? You're gonna visit her now?" Miles asked.

"Not… necessarily. Got something to do first." Fie had averted her eyes before she turned on her heel.

"Alright. I'll tell her to expect you then."

"Thanks," the ex-jaeger said as she stalked through the door. The dark, misty streets of Legram edged into her view as her sights set upon her destination.

Botching her promotion might have sucked, but there _was _one good thing about her untimely visit to the lakeside town.

* * *

"Hey, Weiber."

The young owner of the Aprikoze Inn looked up from his desk. With a wide grin, the man waved at the silver-haired bracer entering his establishment. "Hey there Fie! Long time no see."

"Been too long," Fie replied as she sat down on the table in the far corner. The stoic girl liked to dine in solace, even if the Inn appeared empty save for a few drunkards guffawing at the bar. They were having a drinking competition if she were to guess.

Wieber came up to her table. He handed her a glass of her preferred lemon juice along with the dinner menu for the day.

Fie skimmed through the menu out of respect before she regarded the man with a suggestive glance. "Is it available…?"

"The usual?" Weiber laughed heartily. "As it so happens, we have _just _enough for one more serving."

_Yes!_ an inner-Fie fist-pumped. "I'll have it. Plus one house special please."

"Coming right up."

The sophisticated woman glided her finger on the rim of her drink. The ice cold glass sent shivers up her spine as she played the waiting game.

If she were to give a reason on why she chose Legram as her main guild branch, it would have been this. Sure, being best friends with the governing lord of the land had its perks, but that was second fiddle compared to the fact that the medieval-esque town had _amazing _cuisine.

Alisa had certainly been generous with her cash reward too. Fie closed her eyes in gratitude. She was gonna eat like a queen.

A luxurious plate of seasonal vegetables topped with fragrant herbs and cheese was served first. The sheen on the fresh and crisp roast asparagus glistened in her eyes. The tangy scent of the mozzarella mingled with the spices and created a delicate haze that entranced the girl.

Fie could feel her mouth water as the savory aroma of grilled fish tantalized her nose. She took a sip from her lemon juice and waited. It took all her willpower to prevent her stomach from grumbling in exhilaration. She stared at the far wall lest her reputation of being a cool and mature woman imploded on itself.

After about a minute of anxious ignorance, the radiant glow of Golden Salmon, fresh from Lake Ebel, descended from the culinary heavens. The lightly charred skin on the silver platter shone as bright as Goldia itself, illuminating the room. Fie cut her fork into the pink flesh. It tore apart like cream while buttery juices seeped through the succulent meat. The dish exuded a luscious fragrance that overwhelmed all self-control. She gulped.

If Fie was a cat, her ears would be _perked_.

Sadly she wasn't, so the woman opted to dig in instead. After a brief thank you to the Goddess above, she teased herself with her first forkful, its exquisite aroma caressing her nostrils. She closed her eyes as she took a bite.

The world burst into color.

A moan escaped Fie's lips as the salty taste of perfectly roasted salmon frolicked with her tongue. The tender meat melted in her mouth as it dissolved into fish-flavored ambrosia. She swallowed. Tinges of grilled herbs lingered on her tastebuds in protest. A single tear beaded in the corner of her eye.

Promotion? A-Rank? Six whole months worth back-breaking labor gone with the wind? Who gives a damn. All of her material worries faded into oblivion. The pleasure of the long-sought sensation of her favorite dish rejuvenated her worn soul. _This_ was heaven. Fie sobbed silently as she relished in her feast.

* * *

A hooded figure at the bar stood up from their seat. The person glanced at their drinking compatriots who have long since fallen in the battle with grog. Their darkened eyes then set upon a mess of silver hair eating alone in the corner of the diner. The figure dusted off their oversized coat and fixed the sleeves of their thick robes.

Truthfully, the person had their sights on the bracer ever since she walked into the inn. They had let her enjoy her dinner for a few minutes before approaching. With a flirty grin, they placed two mugs of brandy on the table as they took the seat beside the woman.

"It's on me," they said with a gravelly voice.

Now, the enigmatic individual never meant anything at all with the flirty grin, but the look of disgust and indignation on the girl's face shattered their heart.

Piercing lime-green eyes glared at the person intruding her personal space of about five arge.

"Do I know you?" Fie asked in a freezing cold tone worthy of her status as an ex-jaeger.

Funnily enough, however, the question was an incredibly apt one as the person found themself chuckling in a pitch closer to their actual voice.

"You probably should~" they muttered as they took a sip of the beverage. "Cheers~"

Fie's eyes narrowed even more. She accepted the free drink though. Raising the mug of brandy up to her lips, she took a sip. "Cheers."

She spat out the offensive liquid from her mouth. Fie spluttered uncontrollably as the remnants of the alcohol scorched her throat like a stream of grape-flavored magma. The stoic woman failed to hide her pained grimace.

"Too strong?" the hooded figure teased.

"Okay… I think I know who you are now," Fie gasped out in between swigs of her juice. She had emptied her glass when she gawked at the nonchalant person sat beside her. Her doubts were dispelled as she saw teal blue eyes fringed with silver gray hair similar to her own.

"What are you DOING here, Schera!?"

Scherazard Harvey placed a finger over her glossy lips as she whispered. "Shhh... Not here, darling. We'll talk after you eat."

The younger woman turned back to her meal as she felt the swell of an oncoming headache. At least she knew who this _'super important person' _was now. The crown princess-slash-bracer heaved loudly after she downed the two mugs of foul booze.

Fie guessed right. The next few days did promise excitement, whether she would have liked it to or not.

* * *

**Welp. That happened. Wanna guess who will make a guest appearance next?**

**This took a little longer than usual. I took the time to upload previous chapters on AO3.  
**

**Reviews, Favourites, and Follows are much appreciated.**

**See ya.**

**EDIT: Fixed the pronouns. I seriously, honestly did not know that. I apologize.**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER XI: Uncertainty**

* * *

Fie sighed.

"'Let's talk later' she said. '_It'll be fine_' she said. _'Just one more pint'_ my ass."

She should have expected as much though. It was standard procedure to her by now to deposit her passed-out alcoholic seniors in their beds. She has two of them.

It probably wasn't such a good idea to leave her future empress(sorta) in such a vulnerable state. She reasoned otherwise, however. Scherazard was still an A-rank bracer; the woman could take care of herself. And if anyone ever tried to make a move on her, she would gladly introduce to them the business end of her whip.

_Achoo!_

Snorting and wiping her face clean, Fie glanced around. Thankfully, she sat alone on the pier; the workers and fishermen had all retreated for the night, sparing them from the indignity of her cutesy sneeze.

_No coat… right_, Fie reminded herself. Probably not her best idea to walk around a chilly winter night without her coat. Still, she wanted to be alone for the moment, which was the reason she was out behind the Aprikoze Inn and not under a blanket in Arseid Manor; she felt it too early to visit considering her current temperament. Maybe she'd cool off for a bit before saying hi.

She dipped her toes ever so slightly in the water. It rippled tiny waves on the still lakeside breaking her reflected image on the surface. Her callous green eyes glared back at her, the dark bags underneath it failing to mask the exhaustion on her face. The mist that blanketed Legram prickled on her skin, its icy sting a welcome addition to her increasingly sour mood. The initial excitement of her coming to the town had faded, and, as if the very air in her lungs turned to lumps of ice, a weight burdened on her heart.

Despite her exquisite meal, all she could taste right now was empty bitterness.

_Why am I like this…?_

She should've been able to ace her way to A-rank, much like everything else she set her mind on. Her friends and colleagues could attest to that. Even Sara could do it at a much younger age; she got promoted to A as soon as she joined the guild. Call it arrogance or whatever, Fie was confident in her skills.

Yet she failed. Only because she wasn't paying attention.

She kicked at her reflection, the resulting splash shattering the silence of the night. "Damn it."

"If you keep kicking like that, you're gonna scare off all the fish… if your scowling doesn't do it first."

"...?!"

A few arge away from her stood a burly man. A large knapsack draped over his broad shoulders as a thick hood shrouded his head. The darkness made it difficult for her to distinguish his facial features, but the man's silhouette cut an imposingly tall and brutish figure. His deep voice commanded a presence befitting his stature.

With a fishing rod in hand, the giant sat down some ways opposite her and cast out his line.

"Hi," he said.

"... Hi."_ I didn't even sense him coming…_

"Don't mind me. Just fishing is' all." The boorish man turned his gaze steady towards the lake when Fie peered under his hood.

"Am I supposed to know you too?" she asked.

The man roared in laughter, "I don't think so. We haven't met yet."

Fie waited for him to introduce himself… to no avail. Despite the rudeness, she couldn't find the energy to question the mystery person. The fog obscured her vision too, so she gave up on trying to recognize his face. It wasn't worth the trouble of being suspicious of some random fisherman. Plus, she wasn't in much of a talking mood either. She had made to leave quietly when the large man spoke.

"If you want my advice though, young ones like you shouldn't worry too much about the future. Simply bask in what the present has to offer!" He emphasized his point by hauling in his first catch of salmon and tossing it into his prepared basket.

"I didn't want your advice," Fie snapped back. Much less cliche ones, she didn't add. It hardly related to her problem anyway. Her present sucked, so his words were nill.

"Haha… I apologize. You see, I have a daughter your age. You just reminded me of her."

"Uh-huh..."

"Well, if you don't want advice from your elders… why not stay and humor this old man for a few minutes? You bracers do that, right?" he asked.

"... If you have a request, please drop it by the Bracer Guild branch front desk. If the receptionist there is asleep, please don't hesitate to wake him up," Fie recited her spiel.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I only wanted to talk. It's still some time before the fish become active anyway. Just to pass the time, if you're willing."

_Not in a talkative mood,_ she deadpanned in her mind. Nor was she in the mood to go see the Viscountess either. She sat back down, her feet getting wet once more from the high rising waters. "... What did you want to talk about?"

The man chuckled. Another fresh salmon joined his captured loot. "I told you about my daughter, right?"

"What about her?"

"The reason I came up to talk was that the way you were acting reminded me of her and her own tantrums. That was it." the man said with as much gentleness his guttural voice could afford. "If I may, do you feel lost too?"

Fie remained silent.

"My daughter did. It pains a man's heart when he sees his girl worried like that. It makes us think if we made a mistake somewhere down the line. To start over. She never knew her mom, you know.

"She's an independent woman now though. She makes her own choices and sees them through to the end. I, as her father, can only watch and support her from the shadows. Make sure she stays that way."

He turned towards her frowning face. "I'm sure your old man would understand as well."

A piercing gaze came from her eyes.

He merely laughed. It was gratingly boisterous. "She's a feisty one like you too. Like a tiger. Though I suppose, it was only a matter of time until someone managed to tame her. A boy even. Fancy that."

A large Gluttonous Bass crashed into the man's basket.

"You take your eyes off him for one second and he scampers off, stringing my poor depressed daughter along with him. I want to strangle his neck, honestly," the man joked with mild amusement.

It was subtle, but Fie could tell that his grip on his fishing rod tightened and shook. "She ran away? You're looking for her?"

"Aye, I wish. If she wanted to stay hidden, she would," he said. He looked up at the sky in defeat.

Fie knew it was a full moon out. Shimmering stars dotted the vast dark blue, unobstructed by the thin clouds hanging overhead. Lohengrin Castle was also in clear view from the pier despite the fog. The scenery was beautiful, she had to admit.

But her stare never left the hooded man.

He continued, "...I thought she was happy the way she was. She's been doing what she loved all her life, and she'd grin and laugh whenever I asked if she wanted more. Yet I knew; I knew there was darkness growing inside of her. Doubt, anger, despair… emotions that I could never understand, and thus, could never overwhelm. Like a star that's been snuffed of its light, she too became consumed by her darkness."

The man crossed his arms and stood up, his fishing rod anchored near his feet. "You're not obligated to answer at all, but let me ask you…

"Why are you so afraid? Why do you hesitate when the power to purge that same darkness is within your grasp? Instead, you cower in fear before it. Why do you insist on wandering around lost and aimless, instead of charging through the path you know you must follow? You have the strength to fight for it, so why?"

…

"I-" Fie hesitated. "...I don't know."

She lied.

The man's words were correct, she knew. But just because he was right didn't mean she had to follow his advice.

_I don't need 'that'. I need to get stronger in my own way. Have to. When I'm A-rank, then maybe…_

_Speaking of…_

"You seem to know a lot about me. It's kinda unfair, so I'm gonna ask the questions next. Do you mind?" she said.

"Not at all."

"Thank you. First off…"

Fie leveled an impassive glare at the man. "Ignoring all that about me, my darkness and whatever, I don't even want to know how you came up with that. No, what I want to know is why you lied."

Her expression turned cold, " You told me we haven't met yet… but you knew I was a bracer. Care to explain?"

A frosty tension crowded the empty pier. It hung in the misty air as the seconds slowly ticked by. Fie locked her sights on to the man as if to stone him where he stood.

He laughed.

Hand already on her ARCUS, Fie smiled dangerously.

"So who are you? What are you doing here?"

"...I'm-"

The whirl of a crank broke the fragile silence. Their terse confrontation ended when the tall man heaved up his rod and started to reel in his catch.

"...I came here to fish. Nothing more, nothing less."

She didn't believe it. "...Fine."

Fie strode past the man and back towards the Inn. "I'll get off your hair then. Good luck with fishing."

She had to get back to Schera, as soon as possible. _Guess no sleeping tonight either…_

The back door of the Aprikoze Inn closed with a slam. The rugged man had waited for the girl to leave before he examined his caught fish.

It shone with a taintless, golden hue in his one good eye. A feral grin curled on his lips.

"See you around… Sylphid."

* * *

**Despite the length, I decided to have this chapter end here.**

**Sorry for the crypticness, but I wanted the events in the arc to have a bit more set-up before shit hits the fan. All will be explained in due time~. Tell me who you think this strange man is.**

**Reviews, favs and follows are appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER XII: Star**

* * *

I told myself I was going to be a Jaeger, no matter what. I didn't care much for anything else.

The others said to me I should act more like a girl my age. Not like I knew how though. Couldn't find the time either. Instead of dolls or clothes, I bought knives, grenades, and bullets. Instead of studying how to play tag, I studied how to assassinate those who were 'it'.

I kept going like that, day after day, never taking the time to consider why the boss kept pulling me aside and telling me to stop. Never understood why. He always had that sad smile on his face whenever he asked me what I wanted to do with my life. And every time, I told him I wanted to be like him.

...I didn't want to be a Jaeger.

No… I wanted to be strong. Stronger than anyone. Strong enough to break away from that image I created for myself of being a weak little girl. Of a girl that could only cry and flee from the wickedness of life, even when she knew death was inevitable.

I wanted to stop running. That's why I needed to fight those who would hurt me. Those who would take everything from me if I ever let my guard down.

It just so happens that the fastest way to my goal was to become part of Zephyr, one of the strongest Jaeger corps in all of Zemuria. And who better to teach me strength, than the Jaeger King himself…

It was after my very first battle when the boss shoved me aside again. Instead of showing his usual irritating gentleness or clemency, he was infuriated. I was ten at the time, I think.

"Who taught you that?!" He shouted at me.

I didn't feel the need to answer though. Nobody taught me. That was the truth. I learned it through sheer observation.

_War Cry._

Did I do it? Was I finally strong enough to become one of you guys?

"Why? Why would you even think of using it? Do you know what would have happened if you lost control?!"

Guess not.

His voice was too loud. It grated on my ears. His spit flew in every direction; some even got on my face. It irked me to no end. I bit my tongue, but my head kept pounding. My hands shook as I realized how close he was. How vulnerable he was.

Even if he was my boss, I felt the urge to wring my arms around his neck and strangle him cold.

I wanted to kill him.

_**Why **_did I use it? Couldn't he see I was cornered? My back was against a wall I was too small to climb. A gun threatened to blow my head off at any moment. No time to wait either; my wounds were bleeding me dry.

I didn't have a choice; I could've died. And yet here he was, yelling at me for being alive. Fulfilling the terms of the contract was a Jaeger's top priority. We did. Failing that, only death was acceptable, whether through being killed by the enemy… or suicide.

What was the problem?

"FIE!" He growled.

… I hated that name. That was the name I was given when I was still a weakling. It wasn't even mine, to begin with.

"Fie!"

He kept going and going. Over and over with that cute name he so fondly loved.

It felt demeaning. I wanted to make a name for myself. On my own. I wasn't that cowardly girl that couldn't even speak her name anymore. I was strong now. Strong enough that I KILLED all those that tried to harm me. And I did so without any hesitation.

I murdered them all with a giant smile on my face.

It was wonderful. Cathartic.

Lust welled up inside me as I thought again on how I gutted them like pigs with my knife. How I bore dozens of holes into their skulls with my pistols. How I lost myself in pleasure listening to them cry and beg for their lives.

I relished in it. I wanted more.

I was _**strong**_. They were _**weak**._ Tears streamed down their pathetic cheeks as they pleaded for MY mercy. Their eyes sunk into utter despair as I carved their hearts from their chests and slit their heads clean off their shoulders. Their blood spurted to my lips, and my tongue craved for that rusty taste once more.

That's what it had felt like to dominate those weaker than you. That's what it had felt like to CRUSH those that DARE stomp on you.

They wanted to take away everything I had. I wanted to take away their life. Like a predator eviscerating her prey, I won.

The strong always got what they wanted. That was the way of the Jaeger.

"Fie!"

And yet, there were those who remained unaccepting of that strength.

Those that boasted of a different kind of power that they believed far surpassed my own.

The power to become strong to protect those who were weak. Like knights clad in shining armor, straight from a fairy tale.

I laughed at their naivety. It was stupid, honestly. That wasn't power; it was a fleeting strength that people far too often romanticized. Those that preached it were just jealous of MY kind of strength. They wanted it for themselves, yet they could do no more than fear before it.

Hence why they kept holding me back. Why they forbid me to use **_real_ **strength.

If the power to protect others was as strong as they said it was…

Why did I always end up alone?

"Fie…"

… I knew why. I was alone because I was weak. That's all there was to it.

Weak. Like that name.

"Fie...ke up…"

Stop saying it already… Please…

"Fie, wake up…!"

* * *

Lime-green eyes shot open as a pair of hands shook the sleeping girl awake. Fie found herself slumped on a wooden desk, a ring of red headache on her forehead intensifying by the second. She had fallen asleep on her chair, apparently. Sweat trickled on her brow and neck as the searing pain in her eyes forced them back shut.

Groaning away her discomfort, Fie stared at the pouting blue-haired woman standing over her. "Laura… ?"

Worry drowned the swordswoman's face. "Forgive me for disturbing your sleep, but I could not stand idle when you started acting as you did."

Fie wiped her face with the napkin Laura handed to her. Unfortunately, all recollection of her dream had already been dumped by her tired brain. "And how exactly was I acting…?"

Laura hesitated to answer. "You were… odd. Laughing sometimes, crying the next. Yet all the while, you had this _sadistic_ smile. It was creepy, honestly. Was it a nightmare?"

Fie blinked. Nightmares? Her? That was classic.

"...I had a lewd dream about Rean."

She could hear Laura choke. _Jackpot_.

Her too-pure-for-her-own-good knight friend turned purple and red in her face. It went quite well with her blue tidied hair and pink-frilled corset dress.

_Sexy_, her mind supplemented.

Yeah. Laura in a corset. Fie was going to have a _long_ chat with her best friend as to why.

And also why -not-. _Those __**boobs**_ _though..._

Eventually, the flustered Viscountess gathered enough composure to not bite her tongue as she spoke, "...L-lewd-?"

"_Seriously _lewd."

"I-I… _apologize_ for interrupting then. I shall see myself out now."

"I was kidding. It's fine," Fie said. She'd rather not dwell in her dream though. She yawned and stretched off the cramps on her posture. 'It was never a good idea to sleep on a desk,' her back scolded.

Sighing her years away, Laura tapped on her steaming cheeks. "To think I was so worried when you neglected to show up last night. Yet here you are joking around as if nothing happened."

"Oh yeah…" A swell of her migraine reminded Fie of yesterday's events. She did promise to Miles that she'd talk to Laura herself. "Sorry… something came up. I-"

Her eyes widened in panic. On the other side of the room there lay an empty bed. No drunk bracer on top. _Oh no..._

"Schera. Where's Schera?!" Fie exclaimed.

Laura looked over in confusion. "Schera? As in, Princess Scherazard?"

"Yeah. She was just here yesterday." Already on her feet, Fie rummaged through the bedside. Scherazard's belongings were still tucked neatly in the corner.

"I… do not understand. The Crown Princess is not due to arrive until later this evening," said the Viscountess. Experience dictated her otherwise, however. Her yellow eyes narrowed. "Assuming she did indeed arrive a night early, I fail to realize why you are in such a panic. Is something the matter, Fie?"

"There was this guy- jaeger- I don't know. Assassin maybe. He was dangerous. "

"Assassin?!"

"_Why _did I have to fall asleep? Damn it..."

Laura's steel gaze hardened further. "This is no time to be sorry for yourself, Fie. I'll inform the army right away. You should report to the Bracer Guild immediately."

Her ARCUS flipped open.

Fie winced.

It was for a brief moment, but her face froze in terror. Her legs quivered as dread seemed to grip her entire body.

She adopted a stoic expression before stopping her friend from pressing the call button. "...No. I just need to find her, that's all."

"Fie, that's…" _Absurd, _she finished for her.

"I don't have time to argue Laura." Fie holstered her gunswords and stepped past her glaring friend. She couldn't look her in the eye, so she closed hers tight and prayed to Aidios for Scherazard's safety.

_My fault… _her mind coaxed as she rushed towards the door-

-right before that door clobbered her in the face.

"_Good morning, sunshine~!_ That medicine Aina gave me really did wonders for my hangover. I can't feel a thing! In fact, I think I might even go for a sprint. Wanna race, Fie?"

With the same energetic brightness of a certain staff-wielding bracer, Schera paraded into the room. Not a single wrinkle in her eyes could be found as she bounced in place, her morning hangover miraculously non-existent. Her shawl was draped over her head as she scanned around for her cute junior. "Fie?"

What she did find, however, was a well-dressed noble lady kneeling over a silver-haired lump on the floor.

"Did I…?" Schera had the temerity to ask.

Laura nodded slowly.

"Uhm… She's not… unconscious, is she?"

Fie groaned.

"Oh. Good."

* * *

Any other time, having a princess bow her head to you would've made anyone feel proud, accomplished, or embarrassed. Often all three. Quite unfortunately though, all Fie could feel right now was the bruise on her forehead, and the blood running down her nose. She winced again when Laura rubbed a generous amount of balm on her furrowed brow.

"I'm sorry for getting drunk last night, even when I promised you I wouldn't."

Glare.

"I'm sorry for forcing you to stay up all night for my sake."

Glare.

"And… I'm sorry for slamming a door in your face," Scherazard finished with a grovel. "Please stop glaring at me like that- it's hurting your big sister's heart-!"

Fie crossed her arms with a huff. She was glad the older woman was safe, and that her paranoia was misplaced, but those facts did little to alleviate her irritation. Neither did the amused smile Laura gave her as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Karma's a bitch, as they say.

"Still, I was informed that you, Your Highness, would be arriving later tonight. Was I mistaken?" Laura asked, defusing the tension between the two bracers.

"You were not," Scherazard said. "That was the official plan, buuuuuut I'm sure nobody would mind if I come to the festival a bit earlier, right?"

"Are you sure it was wise to leave the capital preemptively? What about your duties as a princess?"

"This was planned with express permission from my hubby of course. Asked him if I could 'spread my wings' for a bit. See the sights, visit some of the stalls…"

"Did that include drinking until you're hopelessly drunk too?" Fie panned.

Teal eyes looked away. "...Yes."

Fie felt her headache flare up. She really should just give up. She had never once convinced Sara to stop drinking, so why should she expect any less from Schera?

"Whatever," she finally relented. "Just stop bowing. It's annoying."

"Yes!"

With a dramatic fanfare by Scherazard, the three relaxed back into their seats. Aside from them, the Aprikoze Inn sat empty this early in the morning, partly due to most of the workers being busy with tending the crops or hauling in the morning catch. The innkeeper was already in the know in regards to Scherazard's identity, so he had kept the dining area closed to allow the women some privacy.

Mugs of freshly brewed coffee were offered for them, to the delight of two and plight of one. Scherazard happily sipped the ambrosia as a childlike glee twinkled from her eyes. "That said, I reaallly want to go have a walk around town later. Been days since I've gone out of the palace. Still up for that race, Fie?"

"Not really." As if to emphasize her point, the sleepyhead yawned loudly. "I just wanna take a nap..."

"Aww, you're no fun. What about you, Miss 'I could swim the entire lake as exercise'? Up for a dip~?"

"My sincerest apologies, Your Highness. Barring the fact that the water would be _freezing_ at this time of year, I still have some preparations to do before the festival starts." Laura's face cringed in embarrassment. "A-and that rumor was largely exaggerated! I only did it once!"

"Twice," Fie corrected.

"Our competition didn't count."

"What, because you _lost?_"

"It was a draw."

"You had the home field advantage. I won that round, and you know it."

"Regardless, I think it would be prudent for Her Highness to remain in the safety of our manor," Laura suggested.

"Don't change the subject," Fie snapped. "Though I agree. It might be better if you stayed in the Bracer Guild for now Schera. At least I'll be able to keep an eye on you."

"I believe either venue would be suitable. But Klaus would be able to attend to your needs, however. I had already prepared a luxury room befitting royalty too."

"The Guild is nearer to the stalls, so maybe you can have a look around for a while. So long as you don't wander too far away."

"It would be good morale for the trainees if Her Majesty were to pay them a visit."

"I'm sure Miles would be more than happy to share some of his booze with you. If you ask, of course."

"I think it hypocritical of you to bring up the topic of booze, Fie. Were you not adamant in your belief that the princess should stop drinking?"

"I was, but you gotta give what you can for Her Highness, correct? Not all of us own a _mansion_, Laura."

"You two do realize I'm _right here_, right?" Scherazard interjected before the argument could come full circle. "As you may be forgetting, I'm older than BOTH of you, so I don't need you to make MY decisions for me. Much less argue about it like children."

"...Sorry." "M-my apologies..."

"Anyway, I'm going to have fun in this festival, and that's that," Scherazard said. She fiddled with the straps of her whip when an excited grin came up her lips. "Drawing out our 'assassin' is more our style too, don't you think?"

The dignified swordswoman giggled. "I suppose that is true. What was he like, Fie?"

"Hmm… I couldn't really describe his combat capability," Fie said. "For one, he didn't have a visible weapon on him, so he could be using some sort of concealed blade or something. Doubt it though. He's freakin' huge. Didn't seem the type for stealth either."

"Did you not say he was a Jaeger?"

"Could be. He had the presence of one anyway. What's more, he knew I was a bracer…"

"And bracers are the sworn enemies of jaegers," the A-rank bracer stated. "Are you sure you haven't met him before, honey?"

A conflicted expression smeared on to her face. "... I wish I could say I was."

Or rather… she wished he wasn't who she thought he was. _They shouldn't be here. AT ALL._

"Did you figure something out?" Laura asked.

"...No. I don't have the proof anyway."

Their discussion ceased with contemplative silence. Without more information, they could spend all day speculating on who would want the crown princess captured, indisposed, or dead. It was a long list.

The sounds of civilians buzzed outside the windows, signaling the start of the morning rush. Their time to talk was up, it seems.

It was Scherazard who spoke first. "I think we've racked our brains enough for today. I suggest we keep our heads high and move on with that little tidbit in our minds. It would do us no good to be so glum right before a festival, after all."

"Of course. I need it to be a success for father after all," the viscountess said.

"Oh yeah, how's the Radiant Blademaster nowadays? I haven't been able to visit him yet," Schera asked.

Fie averted her eyes.

Laura wore a melancholic smile. "He is… well enough. He is at home, gathering the energy for this day's celebrations. Would you like to visit him?"

"I would like that, yes," Princess Scherazard said warmly. "Can you tell him I would be coming? I want to walk around town some more before I do."

"It would be my pleasure. Thank you, Your Highness."

"The pleasure is mine."

Fie smiled at her two friends. She could empathize; Victor Arseid had been very kind to her in the past. And that was not including the times he saved their butts in the civil war, nor his contributions with the whole deal with the former Chancellor. It was such a huge relief to her and Laura that he survived in the end.

Fie owed the Radiant Blademaster a great deal. Pretty much all bracers in Erebonia did. Maybe she would pay him a visit as well.

She flinched when two pairs of eyes unexpectedly stared at her.

"What about you, Fie? Want a reading as well?" Laura asked her. Sitting opposite the swordswoman was Scherazard holding her deck of tarot cards.

"A reading? On what?"

"Just a general one. Today's horoscope if you will," Scherazard said.

"Eh, why not?" Fie said. She could use some superstition right now anyway.

"Alright. I will be doing a quick one card tarot reading for the both of you. I trust there are no objections?"

"None here," Fie answered.

"None as well. Although to be honest, I know very little of the Tarot, so forgive me if I am unable to follow."

"Oh, don't worry sweetie. That's what we're here for."

With practiced movements, Scherazard shuffled the glazed cards. They turned into a blur as the dexterous woman mixed them up in her hands.

With a flush, the cards flew from one hand to the other. Scherazard grinned at the attention. In truth though, all that garnish was unnecessary for a reading. She was simply an avid performer, fancy shuffling of cards included.

Fie stood behind her senior as she stared in awe at the finesse. She knew a fair bit about tarot card readings herself; Emma had been patient enough to teach her the basics, and Scherazard happily filled in the gaps in her knowledge. The older woman even gave her a spare deck which she left back in Rean's place.

She waited as Schera cut the cards and spread them out in one horizontal line. In a reversed motion, they were stacked back into one pile.

"If you are ready, I will now draw a card," Schera said while gesturing towards her deck.

Laura braced herself, her eyes steady. "I'm ready."

Fie nodded.

Scherazard drew the topmost card and placed it center on the table. Exhaling a deep breath, she turned it over.

On the face was an image of a naked woman kneeling in front of a pond. In her hands, she held two pitchers. One was pouring water into a stream, while the other poured unto the ground by the woman's feet. In the background were several asterisk-like shapes dotting a dark night sky. One of those shapes was bigger than the others. Each shape had eight stokes, all pointing in different directions. The letters 'XVII' were displayed at the top.

Laura read the words labeled on the bottom before looking confusedly to her two companions. "The Star. Number XVII. What does it mean?"

Mouth slightly ajar, the two bracers stared at the tarot.

"Hm? Is something the matter, you two?"

A few seconds ticked by before Fie regarded her friend with a smile. It radiated of kindness. "The Star means great things, basically: being blessed, filled with hope, energy, good health, all that kind of stuff. Looks like today's going to be a good day, Laura."

Scherazard followed up with her own warm smile. It hinted a bit of teasing, however. "The Star could also mean that LOVE is in the air. It could blossom at any time, anywhere, if you want it to. Sometimes in places we least expect!"

The two gazed patronizingly at the only single woman left at the table. "Hmmmm~."

"Y-your Highness, Fie, please-!" Laura pleaded with a blush that's threatening to burst out of her face.

"That's what the card says, Laura. You gotta accept it." Fie teased.

"So IS there a lucky guy? You can talk to your big sister all about him if you wish~." Scherazard added, hand on her chin and with a slight tinge to her cheeks.

The blue-haired woman turned pale, red, and on fire. "P-please! There is no guy I want to marry right now, I swear!"

A spark flickered in lime-green eyes. "Hm? Who said anything about _marriage_?"

"Oh my~!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh-"

With a face burning brightly like her crafts, Laura stammered out gibberish. She eventually clambered up from her seat and shuffled towards the door. "I-I really should be going now. Thank you so much for the reading, Your Highness! See you later!"

Laura sprinted away.

"Guess I'll go with her then," Fie said. She gathered her equipment and hoped to catch up to her fleeing friend. Her hand was on the knob when the woman behind her spoke.

"...Fie, a word."

"...Yeah?" she said without even turning back.

Scherazard glared with stern eyes, her smile upturned into a disappointed frown.

"It's not nice to fool your friends, you know," she said.

"...I know." Fie opened the door and stepped out. Her response was muted, yet the older woman heard it nonetheless.

Princess Scherazard watched her junior fade from view. Her eyes drifted down to the card still clutched between her fingers. She held it up slowly.

Each tarot held many different connotations. How it was interpreted depended entirely on the reader and the client of the reading. However, there were some commonly accepted meanings of certain cards. It was dictated by what position they were drawn in, or what spread or card combinations they appeared in.

Most of the time, the tarot was read from the dealer's perspective, not the client's.

Laura sat opposite the two of them.

"_Reversed Star… _Oh dear…"

* * *

**Oh Laura, why do I enjoy tormenting you so?**

**Gonna go back to short-ish chapters per week if I can (unless a plot bunny comes up, in which case please wait for it on my other fic xD). Blame college.**

**Reviews, Favs, follows and honest opinions are much appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER XIII: Deceit and Determination**

* * *

_Before there was a prince, there was a princess. Her silken hair glimmered like a moonlit river made of pure sapphirl. Her shining blade of light cleaved the encroaching darkness. Every swing blazed brightly with pure devotion for her kingdom._

_Like valleys parted, evil paved way for her when she approached. Her majestic gown as white as the mist became a blur as she danced through the battlefield. The golden tiara that she wore radiated like the sun._

_She was the Great City's Beacon of Hope. Her Champion for Justice. She was admired by all of Helmdrr._

_And loathed dearly._

_For she was no mere princess in title alone. She was the bastion that held the Great City's foundation. Her ferocity was the wall that protected its citizens. Her heart was the light that purged the land of its sins. She was known as "The Sword Saint."_

_And… she had a lover._

_A boy with obsidian hair, only a year younger than her. Dressed in the meek rags of a beggar that was caked in dirt and grease. He had no name, as was the fate for those unfortunates that have earned the ire of the throne._

_Yet she loved him the same. His purity. The promise in his smile. His gleaming eyes craved judgment upon the injustices of society. His strong yet effeminate face resembled that of their mother's._

_Indeed, it was by cruel fate that they shared the same womb._

_Cast out from his royal lineage for his defiling blood and fiendish black mane, he held no spark of life within him. Alone, afraid, and broken in mind and spirit, his darkness attracted the brightest of lights to his somber grasp. A demon, according to hearsay._

_When she would become queen, her subjects shall see how wrong they were._

_The boy had a kind heart. He never stole beyond what he needed to survive. Whatever he did acquire, he shared among those he lived with. Those who had no food nor shelter. Time and time again, she would visit, and he would still give her his bread. Time and time again, she would gift valuable treasures, yet he gave it back and said he never wanted it._

_His innocent confusion captivated her whenever she would take him out to the fields to hunt. The clumsy stance he made her whenever they would spar charmed her. His childlike glee warmed the depths of her soul whenever he would successfully defeat a monster. Everything about him, she loved._

_He was more to her than as a brother. It scared her. She wanted to shelter him and defend him from the callousness of her people. Yet she knew she was fooling no one._

_She was a hypocrite. Forcing herself into his life only beckoned danger to it. She gave him the ability to defend himself, but against what? Her foes could topple entire kingdoms. He was only a boy._

_To love him would be to offer his head to Gehenna._

_She welcomed it with wide-open arms._

* * *

"It is always wonderful to see you, Fie."

"Same to you, uncle."

"Uncle… To think that my first niece would be my daughter's best friend." He smiled that same old powerful and radiant smile. Victor Arseid sat up his bed, his spiky blue locks now an asymmetrical mess. "Has she been treating you well?"

Fie nodded. "She has."

His hand patted his daughter's head, making the lofty woman pout. "She may be a stubborn child sometimes, but please continue to look after her for me."

"Father, I am no more of a child than she is. Please stop treating me as such," Laura said. She pouted more when Victor started ruffling her hair.

"Very well, let me rephrase," he said, his voice now sounding more fatherly. He gazed at the two women with a fond passion flowing from his eyes. "Please continue to look after each other. Just as you would family."

For Fie, there was no doubt about it. "Yes, sir."

"We will… now rest, Father. Princess Scherazard will come to visit soon."

"And have a conversation at the bedside? Surely, for our future queen, I can offer a better courtesy." Victor laughed. It was not forced; the thought really did amuse the man.

"But, Father — !"

He stood to his feet, and Fie noticed that the man's figure was smaller somehow. His posture was crooked as he leaned on his cane. He hunched down from exhaustion.

Or was it weakness…?

Victor strode towards the door, despite Laura's constant protest. His gait was what Fie would describe as 'limping.'

And she was right to have followed behind; Victor's hand slipped from his crutch, and he would have collapsed to the floor if she hadn't caught him in her arms.

His strained coughing was interspersed by ragged breaths and airless gasps. It came in waves, the next longer, louder and more forceful than the last. It never stopped.

Fie couldn't look at him.

He smiled, but it hurt her more. She was once again back to being a helpless little girl, whose caring hands felt so tiny compared to the man's lurching back. She was unable to give him comfort.

Powerless to stop him from fading away.

She felt weak. Like she had always been. It was all too familiar for her.

Together with Laura, they carried him back to his bed. A large machine nearby thrummed to life. It had a breathing apparatus attached to it, connected by large, coiling tubes that allowed the passage of air pumped by the machine. An artificial respirator, donated by the Remiferian government.

The relentless and painful blaring in their ears ceased before being replaced by deep, masked breathing. It drowned out the quiet sobbing of the girl beside the bed.

Without a single word, Fie left the room. She locked the door behind her, but her feet would not allow her to take another step. The hardwood felt cold on her neck when she leaned on it.

She shouldn't eavesdrop. But at this point, she was too listless to move.

The shouting started.

_"Father… For ONCE in your life, PLEASE listen to me!"_

_"I do listen…"_

_"If you LISTENED to me, you would still be in a hospital in Remiferia! You know they could treat you better if you stayed!"_

Victor tried to explain. He really did.

_"Impossible; you were there when they said it. If I were to be admitted, it would have been for life. You know this sickness of mine could not be treated simply as such, Laura. Or do you mean to tell me you are more knowledgeable than certified doctors?"_

_"O-of course not! But — !"_

_"My people need me. To make a presence. For this festival… and for Her Highness."_

_"FATHER!"_

It came back. The rugged coughing. The desperate gasps of air. It was silenced not a moment too soon. And yet a moment after, the yelling continued.

Biting on her frowning lips, Fie fiddled with the tips of her scarf. She mused on how she had acted the night before.

It was annoying; how petty she had been. Difficult as it may be, Victor wanted to be there for his people— even when it was something as small as helping in a ridiculous festival.

Compared to his resolve… no wonder she failed.

_What am I doing…?_

She wanted to motivate herself, but something caught her ear's attention.

_"Your people are MY people too! As your daughter and as your heir… please place your trust in me more!"_

_"How do you expect me to trust you… when as soon as I have my back turned, you force yourself into engagement with some noble you never even loved!"_

...What?

"_I-It is for everyone's best interest, Father. The announcement will be after the last day of the festival. By then, there will be no going back. And neither you nor I can stop it."_

_"It may be for everyone's sake… but it is not for yours, my foolish daughter."_

_"..."_

_"Know that it is because of the rashness and impulsiveness in your decisions that I have refused you our family's sword. Along with it, the Arseid tradition and this land's ownership."_

_"F-Father… I — "_

_"Consider this your final warning, Laura. Choose which it is you value more — for you will never be able to keep both. I will make sure of that."_

_"... This discussion is over. Please. Rest."_

Fie barely caught herself when the door abruptly opened. Laura's flushed cheeks brought a twinge of regret for her. It wasn't like she knew.

"...Sorry."

"Don't be," Laura smiled sorrowfully. "It was my selfish decision to keep it hidden away from my peers. I am simply reaping what I had sowed."

The confession irked Fie more. "But Laura — marriage?"

She nodded in response.

Fie felt her anger welling up. It was irritating; everything felt irritating. Here they were, best friends reunited after months apart, yet it was like this. If she could snap right now, she would.

She knew she couldn't. Not with how Laura was holding back her tears.

"Grats on the engagement, Laura," Fie said with the best happy grin she could muster. It was plastic. "If there's _anything _you need help with, you have my full support. I promise you that."

"...Thank you, Fie. That truly means a lot to me."

"Really, anything at all. I'll have your back. I'll even help you with the festival!"

"Are you sure?" Laura asked.

The bracer pumped her fist to her small chest. "Of course I am. It's part of my job after all."

Laura wiped her face on her sleeve before her earnest expression returned. "Very well. Allow me to take you up on your offer. Let us strive to make the coming days a roaring success."

"Mm. You can count on me."

* * *

"When I said I would help with anything… this wasn't what I would have expected."

Because, quite frankly, the mountainous stack of crates in front of her was a tad bit intimidating. More hauling of junk to somewhere. Hurray.

"I suppose not. I understand if it's not your cup of tea, but I really could use your help moving all this," Laura requested, her voice refined and sincere.

Fie mentally slapped herself. "Of course I'd help. Where to, chief?"

"Saint Sandlot Museum, past the train station and on Ebel Highway," Laura said.

"Oh, they finished it already?"

"Just recently. These are donations and memorabilia dedicated to the Saint. Particularly from former members of the Stahlritter."

"Nice," Fie said. "Can't believe they'd be so generous though."

"They are kinder than you might think. Duvalie has been an undeniably reliable companion to have around through most times," Laura said, already draping four different bags over both shoulders. Her hands were free enough to carry three crates stacked atop each other. "Shall we get going?"

_Show off, _Fie thought. It wasn't a competition per se, but she wouldn't admit defeat that easily. Scooting over to the largest-looking crate, she slid it off its raised platform.

It looked ornate, auspicious, and more importantly, _heavy_.

"You can leave that for later. That's— "

Too heavy, as her toes thankfully did not find out. The crate sunk into the earth of the Arseid Manor garden a mere rege away from her feet.

" — the Steel Maiden's spare armor. The trainees will come by to help later, so we can leave it as-is for when they arrive," Laura informed her.

It fell on deaf ears, however. Stooping low, Fie grunted as she tried to lift the box with all her might.

It wouldn't budge.

She heaved again, but she was just wasting energy at this point. With a pissed glare, she took out her ARCUS and cast a strength-enhancing _Forte_ buff. The ephemeral flames imbued her arms, and she managed to lift it up. Barely.

"How does she even MOVE in these?" Fie said with much difficulty.

Laura shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Are you sure you want to start with that? We can always come back later."

"It's fine. _I'm fine_— Let's just go." Her legs were shaking, but the buff would hold.

Laura led the way through the mansion's expansive garden and through the doors. "I really appreciate you helping out like this."

Fie smiled, a bit forced on account of the uncomfortably heavy object straining her arms. "I told you, it's fine. Bracers do these kinds of stuff all the time."

"I actually submitted a multitude of requests for the guild asking for help with the preparations. Did you not see them?" the Viscountess asked.

"I… must've missed it. Sorry."

"No need for apologies. I know only too well how busy you must have been, traveling everywhere in the kingdom."

Several house servants greeted the two women as they strolled through the mansion. According to Laura, most were newly recruited due to her father's health. No doubt she was curious, but Fie wanted to wait for the right time to talk to her about it.

They passed through the front entrance when Laura stopped ahead of her.

"We're at the stairs."

"I can see that, Laura."

"W-well, don't force yourself to keep up. Slow and steady, okay?"

"Roger," Fie said, eyes firm and hoping not to embarrass herself for the second time today.

It's not like she supports it, though. Marriage was a big thing for a girl, muscleheads like her and Laura included. Marriage meant making a family together with your partner. You also had to live together every day, and that meant housekeeping. Lots of them. It was usually the last step in a relationship.

Even Rean became a blushing mess when she, sincerely, asked if they should get married. Matrimony was not to be taken lightly, he said.

So to hear her best friend had a fiancé without her knowledge…

Fie huffed as she stepped down into the town plaza. She made it past the first hurdle but felt just as lost as she first started.

Just like the busy merchants and tourists crowding the streets, a lot seemed to be going on all at the same time. The sun brightly reflected off the lake's surface in a rare mistless day for the castle town.

"Miss Laura!"

"Miss Laura, you look wonderful in that dress!"

"Everyone, the lord of the land has graced us with her presence once again!"

_Someone's definitely popular, _she thought.

Popular was an understatement. _Everyone_ in the vicinity flocked to the blue-haired woman. Laura waved at the crowd with a large sparkle to her eyes. She hefted up her crates with one hand so she could offer an affluent noble tourist a handshake. And then another.

Fie didn't feel lonely though— she had the company of puppies that were sniffing her feet. Pero, the town dog, recently gave birth to healthy triplets that were a bunch of rascals. Any other time she would be charmed by their cuteness, but the crushing weight in her heart and arms made it hard for her to smile.

Schera said she would be fine, but a prickle of worry never left. She was probably just paranoid because of her mystery guest last night. She'd keep both ears open for any suspicious activities, but maybe she wanted to enjoy herself too.

Her face went dead-cold when one of the puppies raised its leg into the air.

She was NOT a lamppost.

"Shoo, shoo. I'll come back later, so shoo."

Fortunately, Laura got the message and excused herself from the crowd. Three girls helped in paving a way through the mass of people; probably the members of the Laura fan club, if their glowering of the men gave anything away. Fie also recognized Seria, the waitress of Aprikoze Inn, among them.

"I thought this place was just a quiet little town on the outskirts of the Empire. The energy here seems more fitting of a capital," she asked.

"True, Legram IS mostly known for its tranquil scenery during most months," the Viscountess responded dutifully. "However, at the start of December, tourists hailing from all of Zemuria come to visit for the winter festivities."

"What IS this big festival you keep talking about anyway?"

"Ah right. I forget you were away from Erebonia quite a lot these past years."

"Yup. I sorta felt left out when you guys were talking about it but didn't invite me," Fie said with a pout. So far, she missed both times when Class VII had reunited in Legram.

The first was the December following their graduation from Thors. She had been in Liberl, raking in those sweet recommendations for her Senior Bracer exam. The second was last year. She was over in Calvard training and settling disputes there, alongside Zane the Immovable, one of the Republic's A-Rank Bracers.

Laura tilted her head fondly. "To be honest, I feel a little envious. I have lived here all my life. I would give anything to experience the festival for the first time again."

"We could trade places, if you want," Fie suggested while gesturing to the large box currently breaking her arms.

"Regretting it now, are we?"

The smaller girl brimmed with bravado. "Psh. This is nothing."

"Tell me when you're tired. We can stop for a short break."

"It's fine. Tell me about the festival."

"If you're sure, then alright," Laura said. She turned back towards the town center. "You know about that large cross-shaped monument we passed earlier?"

"A relic of old animism, right?"

"That is correct. Animism has been in these lands long before Legram was even founded. Are you aware of the core beliefs held by those who practice such a religion?"

"Uhh… it's about the spirits?" Please let her guess be right. It worked for Sara's pop quizzes!

Laura laughed a little. She glanced at the shimmering blue surface of Lake Ebel just as a gentle breeze flicked her hair.

"Yes. It is the belief that spirits are everywhere. In the lake, in the forests, in the wind, and in the souls of every living being. Twice a year, we pay our respects to these spirits to watch over us, bless us with an abundant harvest and all sorts of things.

"I told you how people from all of Zemuria come to Legram to celebrate the festival. Those people include natives from the Calvardian Republic."

Her brows quirked, Fie cooed. "Oh?"

"We do expect a rise in foreign tourists during these months, but this shall be the first year where we expect that number to grow exponentially, on account of the tensions between the Republic and the Empire simmering down recently," Laura said.

"Why here though?"

"The very same reason we celebrate this festival in the first place. Animism."

"Hm?"

It is then that a couple of tourists sauntered up to the Viscountess. They exchanged greetings and complements with a handshake before going their merry way.

"As you can tell, they too were from Calvard."

Fie didn't even notice but nodded along. All she garnered was that they were a bunch of clueless tourists with far too much money on their hands. They were just _asking _to get mugged with the way they were showing off their expensive jewelry.

They weren't a threat as far as she was concerned.

...She should probably calm down.

Laura shook her head, the awkward cringe still on her face. "As it so happens, Animism is not exclusive to Erebonian culture. In the Far East, they practice the same core beliefs as here, only under a different name."

"Huh…"

Laura continued. "But there is also another factor that influences this festival's popularity. Do you remember what happened this month, four years ago?"

Honestly, her memories were a bit hazy. During that time they were busy with… oh.

"The Civil War?" Fie replied.

"Indeed." A silent tension clung to the air, causing the two to break eye contact. "As you can imagine… countless lives were lost during those few short months."

_And you didn't have to die to have your life changed by it,_ Fie added in her mind.

"Animism dictates that every human in this world, upon death, leaves behind a remnant of their soul, forever bound to those that remember them. A spirit, in a sense. Miss Lianne included.

"Now every year alongside the winter festivities, we hold a candlelit ceremony to honor those spirits. To guide their way from our world and into the afterlife."

"Is that why you're opening the museum now?"

"That is partly the reason, yes," Laura answered.

"Cool."

"Not much farther now. A couple of stairs more and we shall be at the doorstep."

Fie hid her wince.

Making every step as carefully deliberate as she can to _not_ disturb the deadly weight cradled in her arms, Fie ascended the stone staircase leading towards the newest addition to Legram.

The rays of the morning sun bore upon Saint Sandlot Museum. It was a large, two-storied building, almost a mirror of the Arseid mansion, constructed on the hile neighboring the town. Its walls were of a light grey-painted wood and concrete with a platinum yellow roof. Red banners and golden ornaments adorned the structure. The overall design was simple, yet also refined and flowing with grace. It perfectly captured the essence of the Steel Maiden herself.

The insides were more luxurious than out. White pillars stood on both sides, connected by wide arcs in the distant ceiling. The windows gleamed with colorful stained glass images of the Saint and towering murals of the Eisenritter monopolized the interior walls. It was suspiciously similar to a church cathedral even.

"Architected by Duvalie the Swift, huh?" Fie remarked.

"Indeed. It was to my surprise when she came up to me with the design specifications. When it comes to her former master, one can't help but commend her passion."

"Mhm…"

She would describe it more, but Fie felt too much of a commoner to put into words the nobility that exuded from the place. Machias would have been able to, but not her.

Bit by bit, the crate in her hands became heavier.

"We can deposit these on the second floor. The curators there will handle the rest," Laura said. Though by judging how she doesn't appear to be breaking a sweat, it was mostly aimed at the younger of the two.

"Got it…"

Her arms ached now.

"I really do appreciate the help. Were you not bothered at all?" Laura asked. "I assumed you were busy focusing on important clients and achievements for your promotion."

"I was bored, so I wanted to pay you a visit. Don't worry about it; I got that A-rank in the bag."

"Very well. I shall be the first one there to attend your ceremony," Laura said, her eyes closed in delight.

"Yeah… thanks." Fie couldn't meet the radiant woman's smile. "We still got lots to do, right? Let's hurry up and get this over with."

Laura hummed in agreement. She casually ascended the polished stairs to the second floor.

Fie followed suit but with slow and labored steps. She raised the box higher to make it easier to move her legs.

Halfway through, the fire orbal energy coursing through her body fizzled out.

"..."

Those were her witty last words before the leverage pushed her back to her impending doom.

Was this how her life would end? Fie didn't know which was better: death by falling down stairs or death by Crate. Either sounded glorious.

How would Rean react? Xeno? Leo? What about Sara?

The wood underneath her groaned. She fought bravely, struggled to keep herself standing. The weight bore upon her like the world itself. She would've screamed. Cried for help. But at the very least, she wanted to keep her dignity till her last moments.

She had almost lost her footing when a hand caught the bottom of the crate. It carried it up effortlessly, giving her the chance to regain her balance.

Laura flashed her an amused smirk.

"T-thanks…"

* * *

Books, books and more books. Fie would have been sick of them already, if not for the _raunchy_ choice of topic in some of them. She was only checking them out because Laura told her to.

Definitely.

"See anything you like?" the gypsy woman asked. Her eyes flickered with glee as she observed her two female customers.

"How much for— "

"We will buy NO such thing!" Laura interrupted. Fie would describe her as fuming, what with her glowing red cheeks and steaming ears.

Speaking of steamy… the genre she was reading now was _quite_ the craze back in the capital. She was planning on mailing it to a particular short-tempered bookworm working there, to help him pass the time. Purely from the kindness of her heart, of course.

"Maybe those are too _light_ for your tastes." The bookkeeper nodded with understanding as she spoke. She cut a voluptuous figure, even underneath her thick violet niqab. Black, manicured fingernails pointed deeper into the dark-themed store. "Shall I interest you in some more… _specialized_ goods?"

"I'm interested," Fie said, mischief dripping from her tone.

"F-Fie-!"

"You said to inspect the stalls, and that's exactly what I'm doing, Laura. Who knows what could be behind there," she reasoned.

As soon as they hauled all the items to the museum, the two began their inspection. It was nearly midday, so some of the stalls had already set up. This seedy bookstore was the last on their list before their much-needed break.

And what better, more productive way to spend your leisure time than reading a book, right?

"You don't have to come if you're not comfortable you know," Fie reprimanded.

Though naturally, that fired up her determination even more. Laura gripped the hems of her skirt and swallowed down her embarrassment. "I'll come with."

...

…Oh. Oh dear.

Fie blinked. "..._Wow._"

"..."

"This'll make even _Sara_ blush, I think," she said while trying not to look away from the illicit— or should she say, _explicit—_ item in her hands. To say she didn't feel hot from cheek to cheek would have been lying. Her fluttering eyes skimmed through page after depraved page of increasingly erotic literature.

She regretted tricking Laura to go with her now. The pure-hearted woman's face was frozen in a blank expression while her distant eyes stared at nothing in particular. She huddled her knees in the far corner of the small tent.

Yeah... she was probably traumatized now.

The smut merchant giggled innocently. "It seems your friend could use some air. Would that be all, my good madam? They may be bold, but I assure you, these books _are _legitimate copies."

"Got any illegal ones?"

"But of course!"

_What a way to confess your crimes, _Fie's inner law-abiding side thought. But what the heck, they were just books. She didn't think it would qualify for the "Seize Immediately" category under the Bracer guidelines.

If people wanted to pay good money for illegal pornographic novels… more power to them.

"You're fine with that, right Laura?" Fie asked, glancing towards her classmate.

Laura was already on her feet. Amber eyes glimmering in wonder, she reached out for a book perched on the top shelf.

Fie couldn't believe it. The knightly Laura had given in to the lust and temptation. Who was she gonna target now with her sexually-charged teasing?

Rean, obviously. But he was still in Ymir.

...Come to think of it, she hasn't told him either yet, has she?

"Hey, Earth to Laura, do you copy?"

No response. Instead, Laura scanned through the book, the crisp turn of paper resounding in the cramped space. One after the other, Laura flipped through the pages at an extraordinary pace.

"A fine choice, if I may say so myself," the merchant pitched in while hovering near the entranced girl.

Laura kept the book close to her chest as she regarded the other woman with a tense but desperate glare. "How much for this? Name your price. Mira would not be an issue."

The book collector's sly brows cocked in response. "For the entire set of six, I would name two million mira. But you don't seem to be the type of woman who is open for negotiations."

_Two million?!_

Laura's fists clenched on the spine of the book. "Just this one. Please. I'll give you anything."

"Hmm…"

"Okay, now I'm curious," Fie said. What sort of shady business was this to have a bunch of books worth _two freakin' million _mira?

She approached the pensive Laura before she too was overtaken by shock.

It was a novel with an all too familiar title. The cover showed a black-coated man holding in his arms a blue-haired woman. Her eyes closed and hands joined in prayer, she was the striking image of a serene princess cradled by her lover.

"_The Dark Prince of Helmdrr. _Volume Three," Fie read aloud. "Huh…"

"You know about this book, Fie?" Laura asked.

Fie shrugged. At this point, she wanted to meet someone who _hasn't _heard of the infamous banned series. "Why do you want it so bad, though? I didn't think you were THAT interested in fantasy novels."

A gloomy expression washed over Laura. She hugged the book closer to her chest. "I have my reasons…"

"Is it really that important for you?" the clerk asked.

Laura nodded.

"Then... would I interest you in a trade?"

The gypsy's high-pitched voice deepened. It sounded mature now.

It was… enthralling.

"...I'm listening."

"Equivalent exchange. That was the tradition in old animism. Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain the book you hold so dearly, something of equal value must be lost."

Laura met the woman's gaze head-on, her stance as stalwart as if in battle.

Her voice returned to normal a few seconds later. "But I am not so austere to follow that rule in its entirety. A woman's got to make a living after all."

Her clawed nails pointed at Laura's dress. "That engagement ring in your pocket. That is all I require for this exchange."

That actually made the unfaltering girl flinch. She slowly fished out said ring from deep within her skirt's side pocket.

Fie took a closer look. It was a bright golden amber, the same as Laura's eyes. Encrusted on the top were tiny orbs of purified carnelian and sapphirl sepith. Runic symbols were engraved across the metal, along with an inscription:

_"To my Beloved — Alexis S. Arseid"_

Fie reeled back and shouted. "Laura!"

The Viscountess closed her hand holding the ring. Her expression was unreadable and her tone was cold yet fervent. "Deal."

Wordlessly, she placed the ring on the woman's open palm.

Fie sighed in disbelief at what just transpired. She could have intervened, but the remorseless stare on Laura's face stopped her. She gritted her teeth.

She had no right to meddle. No matter how much she wanted to.

"That would be all. Thank you. Please enjoy your stay in Legram," said the Viscountess. Her welcoming words were envenomed with hostility.

Not once did Laura loosen her grip on her book. She turned around to exit the stall, but the woman called out from behind them.

"A minute if you would," she said. In her hands were a pair of cat stickers. She gave it to Fie.

No, wait… Not a cat; it was Mishy. She recognized them as tickets used for attractions in Mishelam Wonderland.

"What are these for?" Fie asked as Laura wouldn't even look in the woman's direction.

"To be honest, collecting and — ahem — distributing books is but a hobby of mine. My real work is that of a fortune teller, but I like to consider myself a kind and caring entrepreneur, so take those as a little incentive from me. "

"You work in Mishelam?" Fie hadn't been to the amusement park since her eighteenth birthday and she couldn't remember there being another fortune-telling attraction. Was the gypsy woman new?

"That is correct. You may use those stickers for a free reading from yours truly should you ever find yourself visiting," the woman promoted.

"Thank you," Laura said thanklessly. Fie winced when she stomped away without so much as a goodbye.

They should really have that talk now. This was getting ridiculous.

"Thanks for the stickers. I'll be sure to visit when I find the time," she said before chasing after her friend.

The woman shook her head. She held the ring up as her dark crimson eyes peered through the hole, past jade fringes of hair.

In the distance, a bell chimed. And like the mist that blanketed the town, the golden ring faded away from existence.

She spoke again in her deep, bewitching voice.

"No. Thank _you."_

* * *

**Dun dun dun.**

**We finally get to the third volume after so long. This story really is panning out way longer than I had originally planned. But they are all connected, I assure you.**

**To those that think Victor was OOC harsh on Laura, well, let's just say she wasn't such a good girl recently.**

**Reviews, favs and follows are appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER XIV: Renouncement**

* * *

"Come here, little kitty~ I won't bite."

A cat stuck on a roof. That was the sort of cliche job Bracers were expected to do, regardless of whether the owner filed a request or not. It's not like Schera hated doing it; cats are cute after all. It just reminded her of her emotionless junior back when she first joined their ranks. And the news Miles told her when she asked him about it.

Now she felt worse for what she did. Her own A-rank promotion came only after months of hard and, frankly, thankless labor. To have it taken away just like that must have really hurt the poor girl. She shouldn't have scolded her without knowing the fact.

And… she really should have stretched first.

"If you're not coming, I'll just come to you then~"

It was gonna be a rough slide, but she figured she can make it safe and sound. The bracer crouched on the window sill.

She jumped. The kitten understandably panicked, but the Silver Streak was faster. Scherazard cradled the animal in her arms as she slid down the slope of the roof. Her feet caught the edge, and she tumbled forward.

Her whip cracked and coiled around the railing of a nearby balcony. She swung like an aerial acrobat, her taffeta shawl dancing with the wind. With a double somersault and a flick of her ARCUS, she landed gracefully on the ground while silver lights whirled around her. Still maintaining the air of mystique, Scherazard handed the deathly frightened kitten back to its awestruck owner.

The crowd applauded, and the former trouper bowed. She froze a moment later when she realized her face was clearly visible to the public.

Bah, whatever. Rumors of acrobatic princesses saving the day spiced up the atmosphere and will definitely turn eyes. It was supposed to be a festival, after all.

Speaking of rumors…

"Hello…? Anyone here?" Schera called out to the dark-themed stall. Lines of bookshelves cramped the tight space under the black canopy. Exotic images embellished the walls, giving the entire place a mystical appeal. Definitely her type of style.

Unfortunately, the homely stall lay empty. A shame. She's heard tellings of a particular bookstore selling incredibly… 'unique' books. This seemed to have been the place, as she's found not one, not two, but over five priceless treasures among the shelves. She was determined to buy them all.

Being a princess had its perks. Namely lots and lots of money.

"Wonder if I can leave a promissory note for all this…"

The thought of stealing it crossed her mind, but she booted it down just as quickly. She's not that little thief of a girl anymore.

"Oh well. I'll come back later." The spritely woman had other places to visit anyway.

* * *

"Mhhhhhh~!" Scherazard moaned as the sweet and saffrony bread melted in her mouth. The salty yet sugary cream tingled her gums as her tongue licked it off her teeth.

She grabbed another from her bag. The glazed S-shaped bun shimmered splendidly under the sun and smelled of fresh, fluffy dough that whetted her appetite. It was a new favorite for the residents: the St. Sandlot Bun — named after the Lance Maiden. It came with a small basket of fried pretzels, and a drink called a Caudell. The clerk explained that it was basically wine with an old medieval twist. It was like eggnog but used alcohol as the base substance. She was already sold when she heard "wine".

Her cute-but-demanding junior banned her on alcoholics, and she went with the mantra of no drinking until the evening. Buuuuuuuuuut she can probably leave this one out. As long as Fie didn't find out, it was fine, right?

Schera took a tentative sip of the drink, and immediately, an exquisitely new taste assaulted her senses. A frothy mix of egg and aged wine barrelled down her throat as she found herself gulping more and more of the stuff. She chose to pace it however, and stopped when nearly half the mug was emptied. She moaned in ecstasy again.

Thankfully, not many people were around that part of the coastline — which was intentional as she technically needed to remain incognito. She chose this spot for the magnificent view, if not for the treacherous cliff she had to climb to get there. Blue waves crashed against the white beaches below her while warm, glistening rays of light reflected off Lake Ebel. A refreshing and gentle breeze kissed her face, and Scherazard Harvey Arnor welcomed once again the embrace of freedom.

Satisfying nobles left and right, studying market economics, planning grand ballroom dances (because Olivert), among others, took its toll on the fun-loving woman. It was amazing how much patience Alfin, Kloe, and Lady Mildine had to mentor her on everything.

Balancing THAT along with her Bracer duties just meant that her schedule was hectic like all Gehenna.

Although, she was glad to be able to keep both of them if anything. Bracers weren't allowed to interfere in politics, but no law stated one cannot be married to a politician. Or so she thought.

She doubted it at first; she wasn't prepared to sacrifice such an essential aspect of her life just yet by becoming a princess full-time. Neither did she want to leave her hubby alone to rule as crown prince. Especially not with how much of a mess Erebonia was in because of the Blood and Iron Chancellor.

Olivert declined his rights to the seat. He claimed that with Cedric gone, his sister should be the new rightful heir to the throne. Scherazard agreed.

Princess Alfin didn't.

Said she needed the time to grow into her own person, just as Olivert did when he fled to Liberl all those years ago. Last Schera's heard of the runaway princess, she was reveling with former St. Astraia classmates in Remiferia.

With both prodigal twins abdicated, Prince Olivert reluctantly took his place in the succession. As for Schera the Bracer, she was allowed to keep her official Bracer status — provided that all politics were handled by the prince or his family, not her.

But that was irrelevant right now. She came to Legram for its festivities, while her hubby stayed in Heimdallr to prepare for its own celebrations later in the month.

She just ate… but sod it. The clear waters were _beckoning_ her to take a swim. Too bad she can't show off her new bikini to the Erebonian masses yet.

After finding a suitably private section of the beaches, she stripped off her shawl and thick coat along with her bracer attire. A black and white striped two-piece covered her sensibly enough, yet still sexy in her tastes.

Her toes froze in the freezing temperature, but that wasn't gonna stop the great Silver Streak.

A short lap across the beach and back around, Schera stretched off the last of her cramps, crystal beads dripping from her body. Her hair clung to her face, and she shook it loose. Lake Azelia was nothing compared to the serene waters of Lake Ebel. Maybe it had something to do with the mystical energies residing throughout the entire region.

It appears she had missed her mark by half a selge. Her clothes and knapsack lay on the other side of where she was resting underneath a stone overhang. She had made to return when an earth-shattering boom reached her ears.

And she did mean _earth-shattering._ As if a giant boulder was crushed to dust in mere seconds.

Her teal eyes widened. _The assassin?!_

Unarmed and without her ARCUS, Schera hid behind the rocks. It was then that a man's voice nearby groaned. It was followed by an intense flurry of strained coughing. It was familiar somehow.

She saw a gallant man kneeling down on the craggy shore. He held his greatsword to his side as support.

"Victor…?"

* * *

Why did she do it? Maybe her father was right. She was just a foolish child.

"Laura…"

...It doesn't matter now. She just needs to shelve the book in her room and be done with it. She doesn't even need to read it.

"Hey…!"

Just as it should be. A memory. Nostalgic and loving... yet the pain in her chest never stopped suffocating her.

Damn the corset. Damn that woman. Damn her to _hell._

Something thumped her on the back of her head. A brown, Strega sneaker dropped to the pavement outside Arseid Manor. The girl who threw it stood vexed, her shoeless foot quivering from the cold stone.

"...You wouldn't understand, Fie."

Her face scrunched up, Fie glowered like a small silver wolf. "How do you expect me to? You wouldn't even _talk_ to me."

"I did what had to be done. That's all you need to know."

"Like trading away _your mother's engagement ring?"_

"Yes."

"Where'd you even get that from, huh? You stole it?" Fie said. The tone was neutral, but the accusation clearly seeped through her words.

Laura continued walking.

"Laura!"

A splintering stomp. The wood floor broke under the pressure of her boot. "I did. Father doesn't know. Klaus doesn't realize it's missing. Happy now?!"

"You piece of— " Fie almost cursed. She caught herself at the last second and took a deep breath. It didn't calm her the slightest. "Why? You know how important that ring was for Uncle!"

She bit her lip and answered half-heartedly. "It's for his own good. With it gone, he might finally be able to move on from that woman."

"It was your MOM'S!"

"I. Don't. Care." Not after she left her and Victor all those years ago and never came back.

Even when the husband she loved so much was nearing his deathbed.

"It was for my benefit as well. I was to repurpose that ring for my own engagement; to welcome my would-be fiancé into the Arseid name— without my Father's blessing."

The mischievous grin did not suit the noble woman's face. "But now it appears I have to postpone my announcement. Such a shame."

"That's not how it works, Laura."

"I told you, Fie: you wouldn't understand."

"LIKE HELL I DON'T."

The torn wood ground on her feet as Laura turned around. "If I may ask, why does the matter affect you so? This is strictly my family business. You have no right to interfere."

"Cuz it bothers me. This isn't like you, at all," the smaller girl pleaded.

Realization. And contempt. Those two emotions dawned on her. "Ah, I see."

Laura's grin turned audacious. "You… are jealous."

"What." Fie flatly stared.

"You are jealous because I am getting married far earlier than you." She wasn't.

"You are envious because I am on my way to making my own family, something which you crave." She didn't want to.

"And because of that, you fear that I would leave behind our Class VII family forever." She would never.

"Just like Father, you paint me as naive. That I know not what I am subjecting myself to." Laura glared back, her hands shaking as she held her precious novel. "I suppose my naivety precedes me; I should never have trusted you to have my back."

"But I do— "

"And while you do, you intend to stab it until you are satisfied. Just as you did before."

"I had never— "

Her breath rasping, Laura choked out her damning words.

"I am trying to find my _own _happiness now, Fie. He already chose you. What more will you take from me?"

At that moment, the tears fell down Fie's cheek. Her bloodcurdling snarl returned. "Don't you DARE bring him into this, Laura!"

She already has. The viciousness did little to faze the knight. "Rean loved us all, Fie. But he loved you the most."

"Don't say it…"

"You assured me that you only cared for him as a friend. You promised me that, were I to pursue him, you would be there for me— through my clumsiness, inexperience and all. You said whoever he chose among us, you would support them from the bottom of your heart.

"Yet that one night, on your birthday no less, he gave himself to you, and only you... And yourself to him. As if our feelings never mattered at all."

That faint memory embroiled their silence. The broken trust among friends. The fake smile of civility they offered to each other. The guilt they had to bury to move on with their lives.

"You could have told us, Fie. Yet you didn't."

Her betrayal could be forgiven, but it was hard to forget.

"...apologize…" Fie muttered.

"No." Why should she? Laura was being herself. If anything, brutal honesty was par the course for both of them.

She watched as the anger — the rage — burst on the stoic girl's face.

"APOLOGIZE! APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!"

"For what? The remorse you felt being together with the man you _stole_?"

"LAURA!"

"Keep it DOWN, will you?! Some people are trying to SLEEP here!" A third voice shouted from the floor above them.

Leaning on the railing and cradling her head, the young woman scowled at them with dark and heavy eyes. True to her word, she was dressed in a very modest white nightgown that revealed not a flash of skin. Brown hair unfurled, unbrushed and jutting out in all directions, Duvalie groaned.

"...Did we wake you?" Laura said, her glare still present as she addressed the sleepless woman.

"What do you think would happen when you kept yelling like that? And they call ME loud. Hah!"

"I apologize. I shall make the trip to my room and leave you be."

Duvalie's twitchy brow spasmed. Eyes lidded and frown impartial, she scrutinized the two sternly. It was the same expression she wore whenever her fellow knights misbehaved. "Seriously... You two are BOTH bone-headed idiots. Go settle things like you always do: with a brawl."

"...She's right," Laura said.

Fie growled.

"I'm going back to bed. Wake me up before the festival starts." Duvalie yawned aloud before she retreated to her room.

The sound of the door closing echoed as amber eyes challenged lime-green ones. Both thirsted for blood.

And neither had any intention to lose.

* * *

**Short one because I want you to stew in my attempt at relationship drama. Cuz I'm evil.**

**...And also because I might be busy for the next few days. So the end to this Free Day might be for a while.**

**Shipping note: This assumes that CS2 Bonding Events DID happen, but also that the relationships were reset starting in CS3. So technically nobody "won" at the end of CS2. Only in CS4.**

**Reviews, favs and follows are appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER XV: The Sword Saint**

* * *

"RADIANT PHOENIX SLASH!"

"I'd rate it a nine out of ten… but is there any _particular reason_ you're smashing up rocks?" Scherazard said. A cloud of earthy dust approached, but she fanned it away.

Victor leaned on his sword like a makeshift cane. His breath was ragged from his subdued coughs. "There is none. I apologize for taking up your time like this, Your Highness."

"Oh, there's no need for that 'Your Highness' stuff. I should be the one calling you 'Sir.'"

"Very well, Scherazard."

"And besides," she said, her shawl fluttering around as she spun energetically. "I'm in the same boat as you of doing nothing productive whatsoever. We're model adults, am I right?"

"...Maybe not as a model as I would have hoped."

"Daughter problems? Fie told me."

The gruff laughter fit Victor's handsome visage more. "That girl… what did I do to deserve such a compassionate niece like her?"

"You deserve her because you're _you_." Scherazard stood with her hands to her hips as she regarded the taller man. "So what's this about not getting along with Laura? I thought you two went along swimmingly."

Setting his sword aside, Victor took his time to sit upon many rocks along the shore. The soothing waves went with the breeze, giving the landscape a serene atmosphere. There were still no civilians nearby, so Scherazard let her hood down and sat beside him.

He sighed. "May I ask… have you ever thought of settling down and having a family?"

"Not at the moment, no." Yes, she and Olivert already did it, but that was different from _conceiving_.

"Then, what did you feel when you were up on that chapel, taking your vows for eternal matrimony?"

"It was the happiest day of my life?"

"Would you wish that feeling too on your juniors, like Fie?"

That reminded her of what she just learned earlier. "Of course, I would."

"Then what would you do if she were to marry a man who does not love her at all?" Victor said.

"I would have a nice long _chat_ with both her and the man in question." With loads of beer and rum added in, she didn't say. Men tended to be more talkative over alcohol, as she's learned countless times.

And if this man was _Rean_ of all people, she might add her whip to the mix. She's met him a couple of times before, and he seemed nice enough.

_Maybe too nice… _

But it did seem familiar to her. It was a classic scenario for the romance novels she loved to read. "So, Laura is in a forced-slash-arranged marriage?"

"That is correct."

She felt guilty of teasing her now. But she didn't mean it— Fie started it anyway. "Arranged by who?"

The gallant man looked away as his expression darkened. "By her."

Well, that was different. "What?"

"Numerous suitors have proposed to her before, but time and time again, she rejected them all to the best of her ability."

His hand tightened around the hilt of his ancestral blade. If it had been any other blade, it would have been crushed. "But just this month, behind my back, Laura accepted the very first noble that caught her eye…"

"Well… shouldn't you be happy? She's found love, right?"

"As far as I know, she has never met the man before in her life."

"Ah." Scherazard's brows wrinkled as her imagination started running. Simpler to just question, though. "Why did she accept it then?"

Victor grimaced, and Galland-Sharl trembled. "...Because of me."

"Uhh… excuse me?"

"I never should have told her about her mother…."

"Okay, okay, hold up. You're losing me," Scherazard exclaimed. "What's this about marrying because of you? And what about her mom?"

Alexis S. Arseid died of illness, as far as she remembered.

"She's alive."

...Her memory was getting worse, apparently. "What."

"She was alive… all this time…"

"How? And why are you so sure?"

"I don't know how, but the curse…" Victor said. "While I was under it, I saw her in a vision. In one of 'The Black's' memories. He must've done something to her..."

"Victor… you shouldn't. They could have just shown you that to manipulate you— "

"Then WHY was it empty when I dug up her grave with my own hands?!"

The ground quaked as the greatsword cleaved a broad area in front of them. Dust flew, and debris rained upon the still waters. Teal eyes frozen, Scherazard huddled her shawl defensively while he shouted.

"I SAW it with my own EYES, Scherazard. She was gone. All this time she was alive— but why has she not come back to us…?"

She hesitated to answer on account that The Radiant Blademaster was still brandishing his sword in an utterly terrifying way. She did not want to be on the receiving end of it, unlike the poor rocks from earlier. Eleven out of ten.

She gulped. "A-assuming she IS alive… how does this relate to Laura, specifically?"

Maybe changing the subject would be enough to hopefully not get her bisected through the waist. And she hoped correctly, as Victor once more sat down. He coughed, but not in a worrisome fashion.

"In my… grief, I may have done something unforgivable for her. Whenever I breach the subject, she would divert it away or ignore it completely."

"That… doesn't sound like Laura."

"Maybe this is her revenge for what I did. I had wanted to make amends, but then I hear that she courted to a Sutherland noble without my knowledge..." Victor said. The scary blade started trembling again.

Scherazard forced a smile to her face. "Well, it sounds like this will all be solved if you two had one of those father-daughter heart-to-heart talks. No reason not to try, right?"

With a yelp, Galland-Sharl was planted firmly on the ground again. "I am a failure of a father were I to admit that I could not even do that."

"Victor…"

"Ever since Alexis… 'disappeared,' I tried to raise Laura as best as I could. Taught her what a mother should have…"

"And she turned out quite well too," Scherazard saw fit to chime in.

"...But there was always that lingering doubt that I had not done enough. No matter how much effort I put, there is no substituting a mother's love for her daughter."

Victor held the bridge of his nose while he continued. "She has grown stubborn and bull-headed, mainly because of my way of disciplining her. And she has become more selfless ever since she met her beloved class."

"Could she not see that I only disapprove of her marriage because I do not want her to throw away her life for my sake? Could she not see that all I ever wanted was for her to be happy?"

"..."

His face contorted in desperation. "Your Highness, I humbly ask what you think I should do— what I should say to her. To preserve my daughter's goodwill, without allowing her to throw away her life…"

"...I think you should put a sock in it."

...

"P-Pardon…?"

"Why am I always surrounded by such incompetent dads?" Scherazard gawked at the man with half-lidded eyes. "Seriously, you're just like Cassius."

"C-Cassius Bright?"

"Yeah. You're just as much as a dork as he is," she panned. "Always worrying too much for your beloved daughter's sake… Ugh, haven't you two even considered thinking about what THEY want?"

Victor gaped.

Her shoulders slumped with a heavy groan. "I swear, if I weren't there to help raise Estelle, she wouldn't be HALF as good as she is now."

Steely eyes gazed at her, while the determination poured out from Victor's very being. "Please, elaborate Your Highness."

Scherazard sighed again.

* * *

"To be honest… I thought this might've been a dream…" _There's no way he'd choose me. _

"Since there's so many that like you, for you to call me out like this… it's impossible, right?" _Compared to them, I'm— _

"Tonight at least… I want to give you my answer.

"I love you, Fie…"

— _I'm dreaming. No doubt about it._

_Still, I —_

"I… I love you too, Rean…"

…

_Please…_

"Hey Rean… today's actually my eighteenth birthday. So…"

"O-oh I see… You should have told me that earlier — "

"That's not the point here." _I'm sorry, but please…_

"Ah…"

_Even if this isn't real… _

_I want to feel him… just this once..._

—

**Clash!**

The silver blade gleamed as it arced through the air. It pierced the rocks several arges away. Fie fell to the ground with a thud.

"It appears I have won. Again."

_...No shit._ The grainy sand felt irritating on her back. Some of it was damp. Great. She hoped her hair was okay, at least.

"Kinda unfair; stepping on my sword like that," she said.

Her other weapon was still underneath her opponent's heel. Laura stepped off it with a triumphant grin and flourished her greatsword with one hand.

"I learn from the best," Laura said. Her tone was mocking yet friendly.

Fie would've bantered back, but decided against it when a surge of sleepiness hit her. The beach was comfortably soft and warm, and the midday sun was covered by the clouds just enough to be relaxing. The freshwater air and floaty smell of baked pretzels from the town assaulted the last vestiges of her consciousness. She couldn't stop her eyelids from drooping, but she managed to stay awake.

Sleepy was better than being angry, in her opinion.

"Although to be frank, I had expected... a more exhilarating battle," Laura said. She took a few moments to cut her words before continuing. "Maybe if you used it…"

No.

"You know I don't like using it, Laura."

"...Forgive me. It was but an errant thought."

Fie smiled. "Don't worry about it."

The slight curve of her lips shocked the older woman.

Duvalie had been right— they were both idiots. The brawl really did calm the both of them. Laura grabbed the stray gunswords and sat beside her with an affectionate smile.

With silence an amenable companion, the two basked in each other's presence, their breathing nearly in synch as the waves crashed against the white shores. Fie took that as her cue to nap.

Then came a loud grumble.

...

"...I'm hungry," she said. The blush on her cheeks was palpable.

Laura giggled. "Well, it just so happens that I had lunch prepared for us already. Prana?"

"Yes, milady," said the maid who had joined the two in case either of them got injured. In her hands were two boxes wrapped in laces and ribbons.

"Hoh. Boxed lunches?" Fie gratefully accepted hers from the maid. Opening it up revealed a wide assortment of cute delectables made with rice, egg, salmon, and various vegetables.

They were of exceptional quality, aesthetically speaking— almost as if Gaius was hired to paint a canvas in her bento. Of particular note were two pairs of rice cakes bunched together. They appeared to be smiling super-deformed faces; one pair had silky, seaweedy white hair, while the other had blue hair knotted in neat ponytails.

"Aww~ What's the occasion?" Fie asked as she held up and adored the frankly adorable mini-Fie cake.

Her chest puffed, Laura smiled haughtily. "No occasion. Our chef merely wished to—"

"Lady Laura woke up early this morning to prepare those for your inevitable picnic, of course, ~"

"Wha—"

Fie blinked.

With speeds worthy of her title of 'Sylphid,' she took several photos on her ARCUS. A furious mash of buttons later, she returned the device to her pocket and resumed eating.

Laura's own ARCUS rang. Flipping it open in a hurry, she saw photos of Fie and her lunch box displayed prominently on Class VII's group chat.

— FC: hey guys, check out what Laura made for me

— FC: theyre so friggin cute IM DYING HELP

"FIEEEEEEEE!"

"Ah, this one's salty."

"Ugh… Not my best creation, I admit," Laura said, referring to the hastily made eggroll her friend was munching on. It was gulped down instantly. "B-but you didn't have to eat all of it!"

"I'm _hungry_. And I wouldn't be if SOMEONE hadn't taken off sprinting before I could order breakfast."

"You should have said so! Josef would have prepared for us an exquisite one."

"Pass. Rather not be fed till I burst again, thank you." A flawlessly made box lunch crafted from devoted love was more to Fie's appetite.

"I'm sure he means well. He's right in that you're skinnier nowadays," said the older woman.

Was she? "...Am I?"

"You're certainly taller, but that just emphasizes how thin you are. Your legs, especially."

"Drat." Fie glared at her stick-like limbs. Sure, she had gone through several tights over the past months, but she just chalked it up to them getting overstretched due to work.

Conversely, if Rean wasn't a leg man, she'd _make_ him one.

"Oh yeah, speaking of thin… How's that corset holding out for you?" Fie asked innocently. She wouldn't be lying if she said the question didn't gnaw at her.

Laura's face despaired. "I…rather not say."

"If anything, I think it'll be the one to burst first. Has your _exquisite eating_ finally caught up to you?"

"Ngh… You didn't have to point it out…"

Fie smirked. "That you're fat?"

"Ggghhhh…."

"Hehehe…"

Laura continued to whimper, and Fie continued to tease. Then they shared cute photos of accessories and clothes available in Crossbell when Fie went on a shopping spree there. Eventually, their conversation drifted to topics like unorthodox military tactics, the latest theater plays, and different types of guns. It escalated into a debate on who would win in a duel to the death between Kagemaru and Mishy— Mishy of course.

They laughed and joked around like best friends whittling away the time while they ate their lunch. Somehow, it all felt natural. Almost as if their argument earlier never happened.

Almost.

"Laura, I'm—"

"I should be the one apologizing."

With a nod, the maid took their empty lunch boxes and made her way back to the mansion. Laura faced her with a sorrowful expression.

"I was wrong to have doubted you, and it was disgraceful of me to have even brought up your relationship. It was cowardly, and I should have not dared. You were only trying your best to help, as you always did before, and you kept it hidden from us because you did not want to hurt our feelings.

"I was scared and upset, but I realize that's no excuse to scorn you at all. It was unjustified; I had no right to make you feel like you did not deserve him— nor his love.

"It sounded more awful now that I had said it aloud… That was entirely my fault, and I sincerely regret it."

She hung her head, but Laura charged through the rest of her words. "Aidios only knows that what I did was unforgivable, but... can you?"

The answer was an obvious yes, but—

"...Did you actually feel that way?" Fie asked.

"...Yes. There is no reason for me to deny it."

"…"

Her doubts were interrupted before they could develop. Laura's hands grabbed her small ones. Both were riddled in sores and blisters, but they were gentle too.

"But Fie, remember: Rean chose you. He had his reasons, and thus, his heart decided that it belonged to you. It is only expected of us, as your friends, to respect that decision.

"You are an amazing girl, Fie. Even while younger than us, you fight harder than anyone else to protect us. You devote your life to support others as a Bracer, but, come hell or high water, you still value your friends above all."

Her breath came in rasps, but Laura held herself together. "Even… friends that have hurt you in the past; friends that don't merit your kindness and forgiveness.

"...But, you care for them still. You cherish them as your family— even when you, yourself, had none."

Laura stared deeper into her eyes when she finally looked her way. A tear slid down her cheek while her voice cracked.

"Fie, just know that the envy we felt... was nothing compared to the joy we experienced when you two were together. Your bright smiles. Your endearing laughs. Both were merely a fraction of the overflowing love you graciously shared with us, who were unworthy of it.

"Just know that the pain we felt... would be nothing compared to the grief — the despair that would shatter our hearts were you to reject his love for our sake.

"You deserve him, Fie — more than any of us. More than me. Always remember that."

There were no more words, except for hers.

"...He still shouldn't have chosen me."

"Fie…"

She shook her head and plastered a smile back to her face. "You're right. We both just have to live with it."

Just as she's always done. "I forgive you, Laura."

Laura held her hands tighter. She wanted to continue but fought back the urge. "Thank you..."

It was Fie that broke the silence that followed. "So, that book — The Dark Prince. Why is it so important for you, anyway?"

She never did bother to return it to her room. Silently, Laura picked up the book from where she left it before their duel. Sand littered the paper, and the white glare of the sun reflected off the pristine cover. The pages turned, crisp and resounding with the whistle of the wind.

Laura brushed the novel clean and cradled it close to her chest. She answered.

* * *

It… reminds me of my mother.

Huh?

You've probably heard of it a dozen times already. A daughter lovingly attached to the bedtime story her mother always read to her. It's that simple, really.

I… don't get it.

When I was a kid, Father and I were never cordial with one another. Most days we would have disputes over the smallest things like what clothes I should wear, how often I can go out of the house — childish things.

Often times, Mother would be the one to smooth things out between us. And my father would always listen to her. With just a smile, we calmed down, then she'd offer her own solutions to our dilemmas. You could say she was the master of the house, with Father always at her heel.

But then, came our biggest dispute…

Laura…

As I have already told you, Mother was also an exceptional swordswoman. She traveled Zemuria far and wide to hone her skills, helping where she could with her blade. She even taught in various schools of swordsmanship— the Vander style included. And, it was her rivalry with my father that brought them together in love.

So there was me, between two wondrous swordsmen, deciding which she would take after first. I chose my mother, but…

Uncle wouldn't have any of it.

Looking back, I realize now why Father was so adamant about me taking up the Arseid School. Or rather, the Sandlot Arseid name. There could be no replacement for tradition, after all.

I may have said some things I shouldn't have, but the next thing I remember, I was in my room, crying my heart out.

I didn't want to see Father anymore. If I had been older, I would have resolved to run away, and learn the way of the sword just as mother told me in her stories. Did you know what she said to me when she came into my room?

What did she say?

She said she was proud of me. That she was happy that, given a choice, I would choose her.

...But it was just that: given a choice. Sooner or later, I would have taken up the Arseid school anyway. I could never become like Mother. Only my father.

It… pissed me off.

Who were they to decide my life? I wanted to see the world. To protect those who were too weak to defend themselves, wherever they may be. Fate had other plans, however. I could never become the woman I had loved and adored so much, merely because of my name.

That contempt was part of the reason I could never accept you, Fie.

...

Jaegers have the freedom to do as they pleased, without the binds of morals or tradition. Yet they choose to use that freedom to do injustice on the behest of those with the coin to afford it— not to protect those that need it.

I cried and cried, but my mother held me and kept saying everything would be okay. I wanted to believe her, but I felt so afraid. Never had I wanted to be away from the Arseid name before. To be away from Father. Away from home.

That was when Mother told me of this book: The Dark Prince of Helmdrr. Have you read it, Fie?

Not all.

Would you mind if I spoil the contents of this volume then?

Go ahead.

Very well.

To start, the Prince was never a prince. He was by birth, but he was cast out due to his bastard heritage.

He became a beggar, barely living day to day on the unforgiving streets, where crime bred and attacked those without a means to defend themselves. That was when he met the love of his life; his half-sister, the Princess.

She was called 'The Sword Saint, Auri-al.' It was her and her blade that protected the Great City from the evil forces that threaten it every day.

Despite their status, they became fast friends. The Princess taught him all sorts of things from economics, leadership, to the martial arts. She gave him everything he desired while he gave her anything he could. It was clear that their love was mutual right from the very beginning.

Cruelly though, Auri-al had to leave her city in order to stop a great foe. He begged her not to go, but she merely smiled at him and proclaimed that it was her destiny. And to do so, she renounced her status. She became a pariah in the city that adored her, hated by all for abandoning them.

She disappeared, just like that.

With its hero gone, Helmdrr became what was known as 'The City of Sin.' Crime flourished, casualties rose exponentially, tax became so much of a hindrance, the city was nearly deprived of its life.

That was when the Prince appeared.

Dressed in all black and all the great gadgets, skill, and orbal magic taught to him, he became a hero. A hero Auri-al had always believed he could be. He became the city's new sword- its new beacon of hope.

And, that was it.

I loved that story— with all my heart. It rang true to what I rebuffed all along.

Mother and Father weren't deciding my life. They were guiding it to what it could be- what was destined of me. It wasn't like I could never leave to see the world if I really wanted to. I could do so when I became a master of the Arseid school.

No. No one had the right to stop me— but if I had not realized that when I did, then there was always the possibility, I would never return.

My place— my destiny... was here in Erebonia. Protecting it. With Father. With Class VII. With you.

Then…

Then my mother 'died,' and the story that we loved was buried along with her. And when we dug up her grave, it was still there.

But she wasn't…

My father, in a fit of rage and disbelief over her betrayal, unleashed it on the one thing he could get his hands on. The book that was part of our family- that which united us together…

...was torn to shreds right before my eyes.

I could never forgive Father for what he did. And I could never forgive Mother for what she did, fooling us all this time.

Just like a million tiny paper fragments, I thought my family was lost forever; broken, and never to return.

* * *

"But maybe, just maybe… if I had this book again, maybe things could go back the way it used to. Just as it did when mother first told me the story, maybe it could make my family whole again."

"That's not how it works, Laura."

"...You're right. It was unrealistic and childish of me to think so. And it was disgusting and pathetic of me to steal her ring for my own purposes."

She deflated, but a smile crept up Laura's lips." I should apologize. I seemed to have rambled along quite lengthily."

Fie did her best to return the warmth. "I don't think I'm the one you should be apologizing to, Laura."

Nodding vigorously, she stood up and pumped her fists. "Yes. I need to talk to Father and tell him — "

"Tell me what?" a deep voice called out behind them.

"…! F-Father?"

A silver-haired woman popped her head from behind Victor. "Yaho~."

"Schera…"

"W-what are you doing out of bed, Father? Are you unwell?"

Her father stood tall but didn't smile. He shook his head. "Never mind that. What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

"I-I…"

Fie scooted over next to her and nudged her ever so gently. When Laura looked away and clammed up, the peeved girl pushed on her back, still ever so gently, with an encouraging grin on her face.

"...You wouldn't listen to it anyway," Laura mumbled.

Still, Victor heard her loud and clear. "I may have not in the past. But that was my mistake. I will now."

Remorse stung at her eyes like jagged shards. It was unforgivable what she had done. What she had subjected her father to. She wanted to run away, but the watchful eyes of her friends stopped her from taking another step.

This was her only chance.

Clutching the book in her arms, Laura closed her eyes and let shame flow out slowly. "Father, I want, I want to apologize for everything — my actions were dirty, and, and I should have never stolen your— Mother's ring."

Her only chance to make things right again. And she will apologize for how many times it takes.

"...That doesn't matter," her father said.

Something broke inside her at that moment.

"...Doesn't matter? DOESN'T MATTER?" she yelled. Laura grabbed the scruff of his coat. "What DOESN'T matter? It was HER RING!"

"I know…"

"Were you not hurt at all? I was rash, and I gave it away on my impulse, yet here I'm hearing that it DOESN'T MATTER?"

Victor grasped her hand with his, "It doesn't matter, because I have realized now how deluded I was, Laura. With news of her being alive, I let the family she made tear itself apart, all because of my pain. We should be rejoicing in it, but I have kept up our feud because of how stubborn I was.

"I have realized now how much I never cared for your feelings, my daughter. But allow me now to make amends for it."

"Dad…"

His shoulders slumped, and he held back his tears, as the best he could. "Tell me what it is what you truly want, Laura, and I promise I would support it, to give it my blessing, whatever it may be."

The Radiant Blademaster cried as he accepted his defeat. "I promise to give you my all for your engagement if that is what you desire in your heart."

Slowly, Laura shook her head.

"You don't get it at all...

"I don't know if I am ready for marriage—

"I don't know if… I would be able to grant you the family you desired— the grandchildren you have always wanted…

"I don't know if… Mother will ever return to us, or if she would attend, attend my wedding, whenever that may be. But—

"But, I know— I wish… that you would be there with her— for me...

"I want our family back… _together_ again…"

The soothing waves crashed against the shore and receded. What was left were weeping.

"I have been chasing shadows of your mother all this time... yet I had been blind to the very thing that resembled her the most," Victor said.

His arm wrapped around her, and he realized how fragrant her hair was. How much his daughter has grown into the fine young woman he had hoped she would be. "You. My one and only Laura. My foolish daughter of a foolish man."

Laura's hands tightened fervently on his back; her expression doused with as much bravado she could muster. "She'll come back, Dad… Mom will definitely come back! She's alive— somewhere. She will definitely— definitely come back to us…

It cracked a mere second later. "So please— Dad… don't die…"

"I won't... if it means I would get to love you more, Laura."

"...I love you too, Dad."

* * *

Schera blew her nose into her damp shawl; taffeta was convenient for those odd tears every now and then. Fie's brows quirked at her melodramatic senior.

Well, it wasn't like she wasn't crying either.

"_Sniff_… Pretzel?" Schera asked while holding out a basket of soggy pretzels and sniveling.

She took a bite of one anyway. Soggy fitted her mood quite nicely.

The surface of Lake Ebel shimmered under the bright blue sky, with only a few clouds blocking the midday sun. Fie turned towards it and felt the wind once more, from the west.

"Hey Schera, do you know what writers used to call a soft breeze?"

"What?"

"...A zephyr."

She closed her eyes and reminisced about the family she once had too.

...

_"Do you know what would have happened if you lost control?!_

_"We would've lost you… _

_"You will never use that until I say you are ready, okay Fie...?"_

That was the first time she ever saw him cry.

_Hey, Dad. If you're listening… please tell me._

_...Am I ready yet?_

* * *

**Free day done. Time for plot. And action. Loads of Physical Violence.**

**Also, I have given enough clues for you to reasonably guess what the novel is actually truly about. Would like to hear your thoughts, if you could spare the time.**

**Reviews, favs, and follows are appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	16. Chapter 16

**An update! Took longer because of a certain knight maiden that wasn't in the original draft. Still, hope you enjoy. I did.**

**Authors note at start for reasons. **

**Reviews, favs, follows are appreciated.**

**Happy July 4th.**

* * *

**CHAPTER XVI - Legram Winter Festival: Part 1**

* * *

"...On this day, we commemorate more than just tradition. Today, we celebrate in honor of a Saint. One beloved by her people, and through time immemorial held in her heart the well-being of Erebonia — whose very soul lives on in us all. I could never be more proud of what you all have done to prepare for this historic event."

The white silk was pulled off from the giant statue underneath it. As it fluttered away in the wind, the dozens upon dozens of tourists and residents alike applauded. Glimmering in the afternoon glow was the pristine figure of Saint Lianne Sandlot. Nearly three arges tall, the tip of the iconic lance glinted under the sun. Made with the purest of marble, donated by the Royal Family themselves.

Duvalie snorted with the proudest grin a girl could muster.

"It is with great honor that I stand before you today. Henceforth, I now announce the doors to Saint Sandlot Museum officially open!" Laura shouted.

Fie would have retorted that Duvalie still had noticeable bags under her eyes. The thick make-up hiding it was ammo for future teasing, though, so she let it slide.

She did have to admit that the craftsmanship was exquisitely superb. Even from afar, she could see the minute details present in the now public display. The engravings on the armor were spot-on and filed to perfection down to every rige. The skin was as flawless as the armor platings were smooth. It was a marvelous sight.

Duvalie the Swift had been determined — or just manic enough — to sculpt the statue herself. Laura said she was up all night perfecting her masterpiece, and only slept when it was time to move it to the museum.

But last night felt like a lifetime ago. There were more shocking occurrences that caught Fie's attention. Like Laura finishing her speech with a stutter. "A-And thus, without further ado, I hereby declare the Legram Winter Festival open!"

The Viscountess beamed with a radiance befitting her Arseid name. "Enjoy yourselves today, and have a wonderful time!"

The crowd cheered, and Laura's fan club swooned. She stepped off the podium and traipsed her way to her two friends, a cute air of anxiety swirling around her.

"Meh," Duvalie said. Her honesty was a smack to the gut. Laura winced. It wasn't over yet though.

"_Someone's_ been taking lessons," Fie remarked. "Maybe MORE than that. Really, Laura?"

Laura sighed and looked away, sheepishly. "I suppose I still need some work. My head nearly went blank, and it was honestly a miracle I had not fallen to my feet."

True enough, the stalwart woman's knees were still shaking. She sulked and regretted her awful life choices. Like near-plagiarism. "I'll apologize to Towa later for my shameful display."

"Well, public speaking is an art, sweetie. No one's expecting you to be perfect when you've just started out~," Scherazard said. Her hood was up and she winked with a goofy thumbs-up. Behind her was Victor and the head butler, Klaus.

"I couldn't have said it better myself. Like all things, it will all come to you in time, Laura," Victor said to his daughter. His voice was rough, but it contained a vigor Fie had sorely missed from the man.

She also missed Laura's adorable giggling.

"I suppose so. Thank you, Father, Your Highness."

"Fine. I guess you did an _okay_ job, Arseid," Duvalie said. A spirited and competitive smirk came up to her lips as she regarded Laura. "Don't think I couldn't have done it better, however. It was by my virtue that allowed you to take the center stage on this monumental day."

Humbly, Laura responded. "Heh… indeed it was. Thank you, Duvalie."

Duvalie balked, her face aflame. She shook it away with her usual displeased expression. "A-as long as you know your place!"

She was in her white casual garments, but Duvalie was reflecting off a shimmering light as if she was in armor. "My Lord, I hope we have pleased you in the great heaven beyond! May your soul rest in peace and guide us all…!"

Wait.

"If this day's so important for you… where's the rest of your friends?" Fie asked.

The knight froze. Her happy facade stiffened and cracked as she audibly shook. Her whole body clouded with dark gloom and irritated indignation.

Her brow twitched incessantly. Duvalie punched a number on her ARCUS, and it was answered a few seconds later. It was followed by a Duvalie-grade shrill.

"ENNEA, INNES, _where_ among the bloody hells are you?! It's inauguration day of OUR LORD'S MEMORIAL MUSEUM."

Some turned towards the shriek, while the bracers watched with perplexed joy. The Arseids only shrugged, then the crowd dispersed as if nothing happened.

Clearly, this was a frequent, if not amusing, occurrence for the locals.

"I don't care if Ouroboros has you on the _other side of the continent_. You WILL get down here right this instant, or so help me— don't you dare hang up while I'm talking to you. ENNEA!"

There was a click. "AGGGGGGGHHHH!"

All still present subsequently sweatdropped.

Reclaiming her composure in record time, Duvalie coughed. "Ahem — they would not be able to make it, unfortunately."

"M-maybe they would arrive tomorrow — or the coming days," Laura, bless her, consoled with a warm, but forced, smile. "Oh regarding that, you still have your speech this evening, am I right, Your Highness?"

Princess Scherazard nodded, her lips pursed in excitement. "Mhmm. Right before the start of the night activities. I, in particular, am looking forward to the dance performances later."

"There will be far more than that, I assure you," Laura said proudly.

"How long does the festival last? All the way through the night?" the lone, unknowledgeable Fie asked.

"That is correct," Klaus chimed in. "There are planned events from now until midnight. After which it shall resume on daybreak, continuing on until evening the next day, and ending with the candlelight ceremony offered to the spirits of those departed."

Fie cooed. "Seems busy."

"True," Victor laughed. He turned to his butler with a curious hand to his chin. "Incidentally, how are the performances of the trainees, Klaus?"

"They are fine-tuning themselves as we speak, my Lord. Will you be paying them a visit?"

"I suppose that would be for the best," Victor said. His eyes glanced over to gently frowning Laura. "I shall visit, then retreat to my quarters for rest. Today, I place my trust in my daughter to handle all that would be required of her to the best of her abilities."

His gallant hand ruffled her blue hair. Sort of like a certain raven-haired serial head-patter.

Laura pouted and whined, and Fie shrugged at the all-too-familiar display.

"What should I be doing then?" she asked.

Honestly, she'd rather not stay in the Guild. The whole place would be swamped with requests by now, and Miles could use the exercise. Failing that, he'd probably sucker in some newbie to help out more than what they bargained for. Fie wouldn't argue against it; junior bracers get the priority for the most mundane tasks. Some right of passage, as Sara and Toval told her when they were in Grancel.

Lazy bastards. But she was part of that lot too now.

"Would you mind being on patrol, Fie?" Laura asked in return.

"Not really." Not that she'd mind. Patrol meant she'd get to explore all day. "But what about Schera?"

"I'll be a good princess and stay in the castle with Victor for now," Scherazard responded. She looked to Laura, who nodded understandingly. "There's someone I need to be talking to anyway."

"Who?" Fie asked.

"Oh just someone I would rather not deal with but have to. No need to worry your cute little head over it~."

"Sure." Curiosity killed the cat, but Fie would find out about it in any event regardless. It was probably princess business.

"So Father and Klaus will make the trip to the school while I will join Her Highness in the manor," Laura summarized. "I have some business to attend to in my office, so that leaves the grounds to you, Fie."

"Pretty much."

"Would you mind if I ask you to accompany her, Duvalie?" Laura asked.

Disappearing sometime mid-conversation, Duvalie was lecturing some children about the reverent Saint's teachings. They were flocking towards her, captivated despite the woman's frosty demeanor. Much like a Jusis.

She waved away her impromptu disciples before answered. "Well, if I _must."_

Fie's brow quirked. "You sure? I heard knights shirk their duties all the time. Wouldn't want your _adorable_ face to miss out on its beauty sleep, hm?"

"Watch your tongue, _Sylphid._ Unlike you, I'm not a doofus who doesn't take a job seriously, whatever that may be. I am more than capable of handling patrol by myself."

"Hey now, no fighting." Laura moved between her two glaring friends. "I know you two had never gotten along well, but that would be reason enough for you to work together now, right?"

"It's not that we don't get along — " Fie started.

" — it's that we'd rather not be near each other. That's all," Duvalie finished for her.

"For me?" Laura clapped her hands together and wore her most earnest expression. "You both promised we'd make this festival a success, and doing this would really be a huge help. Pretty please~?"

Begrudgingly, she was right; they did indeed promise. Both women sighed. "...Fine."

"Hurray!" Laura exclaimed — uncannily so even. Fie and Duvalie glared again. This time not at each other, but at their _charming_ intermediary friend.

Was this all a setup?

"So that's sorted out. Shall we all get going?" Scherazard said.

Victor stood tallest among them, his radiance and handsome smile overpowering everyone else. "That would be wise. I leave everything in your care, Laura, Fie, Duvalie."

All three of them answered in approval. There was no trouncing the Radiant Blademaster after all.

Their group dispersed— leaving only two women alone in a silent but heated, stare down.

Fie decided to break it first. Not because she was struggling, but because the whole thing was too stupid to be upset about. With a slump of her shoulders, she willed herself to negotiate with the irritable woman. "It's a festival. Let's at least make the most of it. Truce?"

Duvalie's eyes narrowed. They shook hands regardless. "Truce."

* * *

Truce or not, socializing was not Sylphid's forte.

"It's right around the corner there. You won't miss it."

"Thank you, darling. Here, have some. I seem to have bought too many." The old lady held out a couple of long strips of dough and some dip. Churros.

Duvalie's emerald eyes sparkled innocently. "Oh, thank you very much, ma'am. Please, enjoy the festival!"

Apparently, the Swift would have made for a really good Bracer.

"Do you specifically hunt down lost old ladies so they'd give us churros?" Fie remarked. This was her second churro in the span of half an hour.

"Don't be ridiculous." With an enthusiastic chomp, Duvalie bit off part of her marshmallow-flavor-dipped churro. "I merely offered my help to those in need and had politely accepted their gratitude. What's wrong with that?"

"Glutton."

"Better than being a walking stick."

Yeah. Socializing _really_ wasn't her thing.

Instruments of sugary death in hand, Fie continued on with their patrol.

Legram was packed with people, unlike most of the year. Despite being described as a walking stick, Fie had trouble squeezing through the mass of men. It was still sunny out, but it was a prickly sunny, probably from the sheer number of people crowded in one area. A sharp contrast to the occasional ripple of cold wind from the lake.

Fie doubled her scarf over her face, reminding herself once again that she's coat-less. Thank the Goddess she didn't sneeze.

Her stomach grumbled, she couldn't help it. The festival air was spiced with meaty aromas and cinnamon bread. There was also an oily crackle of fish being fried. It made her gulp, but she soon regretted doing so. Maybe some lemonade could ease her parched throat a little.

"A gelato stand," Duvalie called out.

...or lemon gelato.

"More sweets?" Fie asked.

"Hush. This is a festival, and I am patronizing these kind souls who took up the noble duty of feeding us," Duvalie said. It would've been convincing— if she hadn't gulped in awe when a man with a giant gelato cup brushed past them.

Fie did admit it looked _sweet._ Unfortunately, a long line of strapping young men obscured the stand from view. "...Let's come back later."

"Agreed."

The ice cream wasn't going anywhere, so they continued on with their patrol.

Halfway through the town plaza did Fie notice a peculiar stall. It was inexplicably popular with all the tall and foreign-looking men playing it. They were cheering loudly enough to cause a commotion.

"A shooting gallery," Fie casually remarked. No wonder the guys were rowdy. They took turns trying — and failing — to hit their targets with the toy guns. A foam bullet hit the shoulder of a bear plushie, but it bounced off fruitlessly. The player who shot it cursed, yet was still warmly received by his compatriots.

"Heya Missy!" the owner of the stall called out to Fie. "Wanna try your luck? Hit one once for a consolation prize. Make it fall, and it's yours!"

Seemed fair enough. Fie gripped the foam dart pistol and eyed her potential targets. They were a plethora of prizes other than the bear plushie. Mishy, Kagemaru, along with a pair of figurines she couldn't name. One had blazing red hair in equally red armor brandishing a simple sword and shield. The other was a robed figurine shrouded in white cloaks. It reminded her of what priests, specifically those of the Gralsritter, wore. In its hands was a massive black and gold broadsword similar to the Galland-Sharl.

"Aim for the white one!" Duvalie _helpfully_ demanded.

...

"Aww, don't let it get you down, girl. Still got one shot left. You'll get it for sure!" the stall owner mockingly said. The crowd behind the two women at least shouted genuine encouragement. Duvalie, though, was biting her lip.

Fie held the gun tighter, but loose enough to not affect her aim. Lining up the sights, her eyes focused on the two figurines. She was trying to get the red one, but…

A soft clink hit the white figurine's sword. It spun— knocking the red one down along with it. They fell to the ground with two soft thuds.

The audience burst into noisy cheers and laughter. Bewildered but not amused, the stall owner scoffed as he handed the prizes.

Her two shots missed completely, but that was entirely intentional. The first test shot allowed her to calibrate her aim of the unfamiliar firearm. Firing it also let her offset the projectile's mass and wobbly trajectory. The second was an experiment on how much force the bullet had on impact. She deduced it didn't have a lot, so she needed to aim for a spot to unbalance her target.

"Here." Fie dropped the white figurine into Duvalie's hands and walked away. _Cooly _and _maturely._

"...t-thanks…" Duvalie mumbled.

Now _that _was worth the effort.

* * *

Scherazard smelled the fresh, fragrant scented fabrics. The pillow was like cotton candy, fluffy and sweet. Like that eye-gushing assortment of pastries on the table. Next to it was a bowl of glistening fruits. Plucking a grape off its stem, she flicked it up and caught it in her mouth— all while still lying comfortably on her bed.

Laura did say she prepared a room worthy of royalty, so at least she won't get uncomfortable waiting around.

"I shall be going then, Your Highness," Laura said with a bow. "Please do not hesitate to contact me on my ARCUS should you require of me."

Ever the polite girl — though for Schera, it was almost adorable how much she tries to be polite. "Will do. Toodles~."

The door closed, and drowsiness prickled on her eyelids. The temptation to sleep on the bed was overwhelming, but she powered through. Her figure would be in a crisis if she caved. Another grape dropped into her maw. It was a trick Olivert taught her learned from his days as a debaucherous and lazy prince.

...Thinking more about it, Klaus did mention the festival will go through the night. Perhaps some nap time ala Fie would be for the best. Her eyes slowly blinked shut, the alluring soft cloth and pillow embracing her form.

They shot open when the unwelcoming tune of her ARCUS rang out, jarring her back to the cruelness of reality.

Hesitating to reach for the mobile device on the dresser, it rang again, this time with a rumble. Whoever it was was not satisfied with a message and was awfully demanding.

_They did say he hated Bracers. Oh well._

The caller ID was _not_ the one she expected though. But she sort of _loved_ his unexpectedness.

"Hey~."

_"Good afternoon, darling~. Enjoying yourself?"_ the princely voice said. Olivert popped into view of her ARCUS none too worse for wear— other than his one closed eye. Schera missed his eyepatch; it made him look rougher than he actually was.

But the Prince was a sneak.

"Very much so..." Scherazard said. Her teal eyes turned into a piercing glare that could make any man flinch. "...although I get the feeling you ended up using me. AGAIN."

The cold sweat trickled from Olivert's temples. "Honey, _whatever_ do you mean? I thought you needed the break, and I merely allowed because of my _undying _love for you~."

"Oh my, if you lay it on thick like that, I might just puke~."

She was hardly kidding. Her glare continued to prick the man on the screen. "Was it true what he said about Alexis?"

Olivert looked away, timidly. He _did _know. "...There's no denying the possibility. Ouroboros had already proven they can somehow bring the dead back to life with The Jaeger King. I wouldn't put it past them to resurrect a talented sword-arm like Alexis to bolster their ranks."

"What about Loewe?"

"They could—" Oliver chuckled. "...however, I doubt he would forgive them for desecrating the dead like that."

That thought was relieving, of sorts. The Bladelord was a monster to fight. Scherazard wouldn't want to be in line to take him down if he ever came back.

"How's The Radiant Blademaster now?" Olivert asked.

"In his room, where he should be." Victor intended to keep his word to Laura, much to the girl's delight.

The topic of the Arseid feud and the wayward Alexis was restricted to family and close friends only. Olivert and Fie included. Even then, they were hard-pressed to help because of all the tension. It was like dealing with two stubborn bulls ramming their heads at one another.

It all was a pain, in her opinion, and Scherazard was the type to rant. Booze or not.

Her a touch-bit manipulative husband responded to her rambling with a smug smile. "It appears my plan worked out wonderfully then."

"Ass," she fired back. It ended on a happy note, though. She could accept that.

Her retort did remind her of another ass-person she was supposed to be phoning right now.

Olivert picked up on her cue before she could ask. "You were expecting the ambassador, were you not?"

Scherazard nodded. "He's supposed to come here, right? I imagine he would, considering all the Calvardians present."

"...He is unavailable at the moment," Olivert said impassively.

"What?"

"There had been an incident in Roer. The RMP informed me that there was evidence linking him to it. He will not be allowed in Erebonia pending further investigation."

Scherazard was partially thankful she was not allowed to politics. It was a headache, no offense. But, as a Bracer, hearing of an incident happening nearby got her on edge.

What Olivert said next, however, spurred her curiosity more. "Then, there was his connections with a _certain_ Society. And… their Jaegers."

Scherazard Harvey sat up on the comfy bed. Guess she wasn't taking that nap after all.

"I'm listening."

* * *

A bribe, Fie thought. No way would the food-obsessed Duvalie think of buying an ultra-deluxe-sized lemon gelato for her. Yet here she was, a bucket of icecream freezing her hands and spoonfuls of zest lemoning her mouth.

"Don't assume I bought it just for you," Duvalie said. "It's my way of showing gratitude for winning me that doll, okay? Hmph."

Classic.

Their first round of patrol over, the two women found a spot by the pier for a break. Duvalie, of course, bought more than just ice cream for the afternoon's snack. Fie blinked in awe as the starved woman wolfed down her vanilla gelato-sauced pretzels— calories be damned.

Loud munching aside, the pier was relaxingly quiet compared to the plaza. Most of the noise was of various fishermen chatting around as they waited for their catch. Several speed boats were also ferrying tourists to and fro Lohengrin Castle.

It was scenic; as if it was a painting coming to life. Gentle waves dusted the slopes of the island. Amidst a backdrop of twilight, dark stone towers stood gloriously over them. The clouds were fine-trimmed and had fluffy curves that puffed out over the horizon. Everything was a fiery orange, including the blue waters of Lake Ebel.

A portrait in Laura's house that looked similar, but seeing it on her own was quite breathtaking. Experiencing this every day, no wonder Laura grew up into such a romanticist.

"Years later, and I still feel like a little girl staring in awe at that beautiful castle."

"Hm?"

"It's nothing," Duvalie said.

It was subtle, but the purer the person, the easier it was for Fie to pick up on the loneliness in their eyes. Sorrowful loneliness. She was the same.

"...It's okay to miss them," Fie said. Maybe it was because of the sugary treat did she feel sweet honey on her tongue. "You still have us, and I doubt Laura would just leave you alone."

Duvalie looked down for a moment, before huffing as usual. "What sort of nonsense drivel are you spouting now?"

The loneliness was replaced by a sharp, provoking glint on her irises. "And, to be perfectly clear… I would be more than happy to be rid of _you_."

Honestly, Fie couldn't tell what the deal was with both of them, but whatever. "Likewise."

"...but thanks," Duvalie added. She wasn't even flushed.

"You're welcome."

Silence, punctuated by the crackling of crusty pastry. Fie wasn't even half done with her gooey ice cream.

Arguing was— arguably— better, in her opinion. "Hey, who do you think would win in an Awakener battle, Rutger or Lianne?"

"My master, hands down. Your boss may be the Jaeger King, but he wouldn't stand a chance against the might of the Steel Maiden!"

"Jaegers have their ways to deal with tanks. He could hang back and pepper her with armor-piercing rounds. The Steel Maiden's still susceptible to traps too."

"Hah, as IF," Duvalie exclaimed. "Were you not there to witness my Lord's brilliant speed? She would close the distance in the blink of an eye and skewer him before he could load a bullet."

"From sniping distance?" Rutger was a master of all types of firearms, after all. Even rocket-propelled grenade launchers.

"Did you not hear what I said? My Lord is far, FAR faster than a mere bullet! She would— "

"And how are my two _favorite _people doing? Getting along, I hope~?" an annoyingly endearing voice spoke from behind them. Strong arms covered in frills wrapped their heads in a huddle. Laura's radiant smile grew when she saw the pair of gelato cups tucked neatly to the side.

"We were perfectly fine without you, Arseid!" Duvalie said with a small tinge to her cheeks. She tried to pry free, to no avail. Thankfully, Laura soon released them from her clutches.

"Laura, who do you think would win in a fight, Rutger or Lianne?" Fie asked. She wasn't going to let go of that question that easily.

"I… don't understand. Neither?" Laura answered.

Duvalie groaned. "Ugh, you carry the Sandlot name! At least have the decency to defend it!"

"Uhm… I guess I should?"

"Wow. Way to take sides, Laura. I thought I was your _Best Friend Forever?" _Fie chided. Her wolf-like eyes glared lazily. "We even shared lunches. And beds."

"H-hey now— that was uncalled for…"

"Just kidding." A bit of revenge, Fie giggled. "What's up? I thought you were busy."

Laura sighed. "Haven't you teased me enough for today…? But yes, I was."

Crossing her arms, Laura stood battle-ready, her body language serious. Fie noticed the longsword strapped to her waist. "Miles informed me of what you have found. I went to investigate, but the men who were tailing you seemed to have fled already."

"What about Schera?"

"Safe, with Father. I've had Klaus prepare the trainees for evacuation, should the need arise." Laura's eyes darkened at the scenario. "It goes without saying that I hope we wouldn't need to."

Usually, in a crowded environment, Fie would have expected to see an even split between the two sexes. But everywhere the two of them went, there was a suspiciously skewed ratio of men to women. The gelato stand, the shooting gallery, even in the female-targeted smut bookstore. Her gut feeling intensified when her stalkers disappeared when they were buying their snacks.

An ARCUS rang. It was Fie's. "Sylphid here."

_"Fie, is Laura with you now?" _Miles said through the speakers.

"We just met up. What's the situation?"

_"The RMP is already posted along the highway, leaving Points C and D as possible entry points. I've cleared the civilians from the area, just in case." _He was a cunning smooth talker, but the guild receptionist did have a way with words. The fact that he had done all those without causing panic was proof of that.

"Points C and D are along the cliffsides, correct?" Laura asked.

_"They are on a splinter path branching from the river delta. Teeming with monsters, but some areas flat enough to traverse on. Getting there is what's difficult," _Miles said. "_It's treacherous— but passable."_

"If they're aiming for the mansion, they'd have to go through there. I wouldn't recommend it, though." Fie said. Jaegers like her were trained to climb cliffs all the time, but even she wouldn't take the risk. There were always better alternative routes. More if the mission required stealth.

Either they were desperate enough, or they were skilled enough to try. That or the jaegers were secretly robots.

And, Fie was sure now they were jaegers. Bad ones. They couldn't hide the bloodlust nor the vanity in their steps. From what corps, she can't say. They were staring at her as if she was the both scariest and most adorable thing in the city, so she could assume that they knew of her reputation.

Still, she couldn't shake that uncertainty that was boiling in her stomach. Maybe part of it was from all the dairy she ate.

"I wouldn't worry so much about those jaeger dropouts," Duvalie chipped in. Having finished re-freezing her gelato, she shuddered at the frigid sweetness when it touched her lips. "They can certainly TRY. If they prove to be as stupid as they appear."

"If they think they can even hope to match blades with the three of us, I wouldn't deny them the challenge," the ardent Laura said. She punched her palm with almost child-like glee. Combined, the three of them made for a fearsome combination— minus the vitriol with Duvalie.

Fie smiled at the thought.

She wished that it wouldn't come to that.

"I'm more worried about their boss," she said.

"You mean the stranger you met last night?" Laura asked.

She nodded. Yesternight's events were still fresh in her mind, and so were the hooded man's words. If only she had gotten closer, then she could have identified him. "Any idea who that was, Miles?"

The line was silent for almost a minute. "Miles?"

"_Big, hulking guy with a deep voice, possibly half man-eating tiger?" _he finally said.

Pretty much sums up most other jaegers Fie knew of. Except for Xeno. That last part was an odd little detail, though. "Yep."

"_...About that…" _His words were coated with a nearly tangible veil of apprehension. Perturbed, almost. Time stood still as Fie waited for his reply. It came not from her phone, but from an unlikely source.

"...Oh, you mean Orlando."

...

Duvalie licked the spoon in her mouth. She stared at the two women gawking at her, an innocent confusion on her face. "Whut?"

There was a click, and the ARCUS screen went dark.

An explosion rocked the festive town.

Reflected on the surface of the crystal-orange lake…

...was a poisonous-red smoke billowing out in the distance.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER XVII - Legram Winter Festival: Part 2**

* * *

The Red Constellation.

Uncontested as Zemuria's strongest Jaeger corps after their rival, Zephyr, unofficially disbanded following the Great Twilight. Key members such as their commanding officer's daughter, Shirley Orlando, was reported to have been in direct service of one Cedric Reise Arnor. The former Crown Prince, meanwhile, directly served under Giliath Osborne, the Blood and Iron Chancellor—the same individual who put into the events leading up to Operation Jormungandr, the subsequent World War, and the appearance of the Tuatha De Danann in the skies above Osgiliath Basin. The Red Constellation was believed to have been in league with the Society of Ouroboros during said events.

Sightings of the corps ground to a halt at the same time the Society fled from Erebonia. By then, the Red Constellation's allegiances were all but confirmed. Rumors persisted of the jaegers being active in the far reaches of the Calvardian Republic, but it is currently unknown what had become of this once infamous clan of berserkers.

That was, until today.

* * *

_**December 17, S.Y. 1207 - 18:30**_

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US!?"

Her lime-green eyes were a searing red.

"You didn't ask!" Duvalie shouted.

Fie had her by the neck, her jaeger instincts compelling her to break it. Her throat hurt from her scream— or maybe it was from the deluge of overly sweet gelato. Either way, it was about time she _strangled _the older woman for it.

_Of course_ she didn't ask, because _why the hell_ would anyone not tell her?

"Fie, calm down."

Calm down? What a wonderful way to waste time. _The Red Constellation_ was on the move. It's not like the safety of one of her dearest friends was on the line. The smoke was definitely not poison, and those explosions were merely fireworks.

And the Orlandos were here as well. Why don't they all have a pleasant chat over some biscuits and tea while they were at it? Everybody should just _calm down_, right? NOBODY was more CALM than her.

A hand held hers, and Fie realized now her entire body was shaking. Loosening her grip on Duvalie's scruff, her knuckles whitened as she gripped her scarf.

"Duvalie…" Laura started. Her expression was similarly torn, but neither her words nor her gaze faltered. "Please tell us what you know."

Silence. Except for another terrorizing explosion overhead. Frag grenades, there was no mistaking it. Even if the woman spoke, Fie probably won't hear it through her seething breaths.

Duvalie hesitated. As if they had all the time in the world.

She clicked her tongue. "We're wasting time. Let's go."

"...They're not who you think they are."

Fie offered her the slightest tilt of her head. _Go on,_ she didn't need to say.

"The Red Constellation fractured long ago," Duvalie said. "Only a handful of them remain loyal to the Society—and that loyalty could be measured by how much mira they have in their pockets."

She crossed her arms and looked away. "That's all Ennea and Innes were willing to share with me."

It was hard to believe—or rather, Fie didn't believe it one bit.

It wasn't good, she knew. Her temper was clouding her judgment. Maybe there was a hint of truth to it. _Maybe _she could give Duvalie the benefit of the doubt. From personality alone, the woman was never the type to lie. And she had no reason to, given the situation.

It still struck a nerve. Fie couldn't swallow the bile in her tone. "Then who are THESE?" she snapped back.

Duvalie eyed her with disinterest. "As I said: jaeger dropouts. Rogue brats from the Red Constellation thinking they can make it big just because they don't have a leader anymore."

Rogue brats. Apt.

"_She's_ not here if that's what you're worried about," Duvalie added.

Hit the nail on the head on that one. It was annoying how much it relieved her. Fie failed to stave off her beating heart. "What about Sigmund?" she asked.

"Dropped by last night to say hi. Nothing else. Left just as quickly to 'meet' someone." Duvalie stared incredulously at her. "I assumed he was referring to YOU."

Fie sighed, more heavily than she wanted. So, her anxiety was brought about by misplaced paranoia. That was _wonderful_ news.

"I'm sorry," Duvalie said. Reluctantly, Fie gazed into the older woman's eyes. They were sincere. "It wasn't my place to ask, but I should've realized it sooner. I apologize."

No. Duvalie didn't need forgiveness. After all, who was it that couldn't prevent this disaster in the first place?

_It's not anyone's fault but mine._

Fie pointed at the ever-growing crimson clouds. "Smoke bombs. Non-flammable. Dangerous if inhaled in large amounts. The Red Constellation uses them to flush civilians out of structures before raiding."

Her fists curled at the implications of her own words. "In that direction, there's only one possible target."

Ebel Highway. Saint Sandlot Museum.

"...Bastards," Duvalie muttered—almost muted.

"Go."

Nodding, and without sparing a glance back, Duvalie ran.

Hopefully, Duvalie alone would be enough. Hopefully, the woman could stop them all by herself. Hopefully, the Red Constellation wasn't planning on taking Scherazard.

She's learned to never hope for something so ridiculous.

"You intend to go alone," Laura finally said.

It wasn't a question, but a statement Fie had heard a dozen times before. Wouldn't make it any less true. She didn't even think to answer. Her feet took off before she could see her best friend's face one last time.

If she did, no doubt it would be filled with the pain of betrayal once again.

She did.

It hurt.

* * *

The Red Constellation was after her head, even if it was amazingly brazen of them to do so. Olivert had pretty much confirmed it. The ambassador's coincidental no-show, and Fie's warning of a possible assassin. It all added up to fishy and slimy things.

As Zin put it, the Republic of Calvard was a wreck—a ticking time bomb. Their new president was shady as all hell and the government was on the brink of collapse. The politicians waged a silent war with each other in a struggle for power—which just so happens to involve kidnapping a princess of Erebonia.

_A _princess of Erebonia. Scherazard would have worried about her missing sister-in-law but there were more pressing matters at hand.

Miles cautioned her that the attack on the highway was most likely a diversion. Crafted explosives latched to a remotely-driven car. It blended in with the traffic and when it reached the RMP outpost, it was detonated. No casualties as of yet, but these were _Red Constellation _jaegers. If they wanted to murder everyone at the festival, they could do so.

It was aggravating—against every fiber of her being—to not help during times of crisis. If she moved anywhere else, she would be inviting danger to herself and everyone around her. Just as they had planned, staying in the castle was the smart choice for Princess Scherazard.

But Schera was _not_ smart. _Schera_ was a Bracer.

"Can you walk?" Without even waiting for a reply, she helped the old woman up. Schera recognized her as the lady that bought her a churro.

"I can, dearie…" Grandma Churros said. She was smiling, but Schera noticed a twinge of pain from the straining of her lips.

The lady was holding the right side of her hips. Looking further down, her foot was shaking. Probably a sprain, Schera surmised. The old lady's legs appeared sore from the running.

Wasting no time, Schera cast a soothing _Breath _art on her. Healing arts were effective for open cuts and bleeding, but unfortunately fared less for sores and internal wounds. Better than nothing, she supposed.

"Thank you…" the old lady said.

Warm, but the words sent a cold needle through her heart. Schera needed to vacate her somewhere safer and go back as soon as she can in case there were more people like Grandma Churros. Even now, an abyssal red haze blanketed the town plaza. They weren't poisoned yet, but it did sting the eyes.

Another blast somewhere far along the highway. It was drowned out by the sounds of a man screaming past her. From the looks of it, he was running around randomly, before settling for a direction that was the complete _opposite_ of the nearest evacuation centers.

For emergency shelters, the town had its chapel, the Viscount's manor, and the Arseid school training hall. Those near the lake would be ferried to Lohengrin Castle. The last was the RMP-controlled train station.

Because of the old lady's leg, none of them were viable at the moment. The best they could go for was the Bracer guild. It wasn't fortified, but the guild acted as a beacon for the civilians in need. There they can wait until the bracers or proper military authorities guided them to safety.

Schera didn't even need to open the damn door; it was already busted down by the panicking people inside.

The guild was cramped and reeked of sweat and anxiety. Thankfully, the crowd made way for her as she carried Grandma Churros in. The atmosphere was all levels of apprehending, not helped by the constant red smoke, but the occasional rush of escorts herding people to safer areas brought some hope for the tiny, dilapidated building.

In the middle of it all stood a dark-haired bespectacled man. Holding his ARCUS in one hand, and a little girl's in another, Miles shouted orders left and right, serving as a command center for communications.

Schera didn't expect to hear a familiar name, though.

"You can't handle them all," Miles said to his ARCUS. "Laura's there with you, Fie. Don't go— Fie!" the call ended with an audible click.

The sudden outburst was punctuated by an explosion and a disheartening trumpet of gunfire. The little girl cried. She must have been trying to keep herself from breaking down since this mess started.

"Miss, can you take me to that crying girl there?" Grandma Churros asked. Schera obliged. She needed to talk to Miles anyway.

"Don't cry now little one," the old lady said to the girl. In her hand was, appropriately, another churro. How many did she BUY?

The spicy scent of fried dough was enough to stop the girl from wheezing. She nibbled on the pastry, tears still staining on her cheeks.

"T-thank you…" the girl mumbled between her sniffles.

Grandma Churros, despite her age, heard it loud and clear. She gave Miles an elderly grin no man or woman cannot simply say no to. "Do you mind if I take the girl?"

"Please," Miles said. "She was separated from her parents. They're on a ferry to Lohengrin Castle right now."

"Then have both of them on the next one as fast as possible," Schera ordered. "The old lady injured her leg and won't be walking anytime soon."

A furrow crinkled on Miles' forehead. He sighed it away. "You being here is another headache for me, Schera. But, you have a point. I'll inform Klaus right away."

Schera led Grandma Churros and Little Churros to a less crowded section of the guild. The girl was calming down a bit, though it would have been nice if the entire place did. For now, they all just had to wait.

Miles was cursed at the one ARCUS unit that failed to connect again.

"Still nothing?" Schera asked.

"She's turned off her signal," Miles said with as much fake reassurance as he can fool himself with.

A grim expression darkened Schera's face. The worst-case scenario wasn't that her cute but oh-so-annoying junior was dead on the streets; it was worse. Much, _much_ worse. Frankly, she hardly cared about the jaegers— Fie could handle them. It was the way the girl WOULD handle them was what worried her.

Alone. Without backup.

Just like that one time. A blackened memory the guild had all but forgotten. Schera prayed to the Goddess that the ex-jaeger wouldn't do what she feared she would do.

That Goddess would smite her, knowing that she was leaving her cute junior by herself. She chose to put her faith in one of her friends instead. Princess Scherazard had a job to do, as both a supporter of the citizens and as a ruler to her people.

Miles faced her with a sly smirk. "We do apologize for postponing your speech though, Your Highness."

Cheeky bastard. Schera returned his smirk with her own. "How about if I give one now?"

"Go ahead."

* * *

Point C was ten minutes away from the pier. Cutting through the rooftops, it would be three. She stopped by the inn for her munitions, adding another two.

Five minutes. Far too long.

Fie thought it would have been fine. Whoever the jaegers were, the three of them could handle it.

Not so with the Red Constellation. Even if they were indeed dropouts, there was no denying that hell they went through to become what they were. When she was incited into Zephyr, they spared her no leisure despite being ten years of age. Ten years of being coddled, her boss said. She's lost count of how many times she broke her arms and crippled legs trying to keep up. And every time, she held back her tears, screaming in her heart for the pain to stop. It broke _her._

The Red Constellation even more so. Based on combat strength alone, they easily surpassed Zephyr's. The Jaeger King admitted so himself. Instead, Zephyr relied on the strategic use of traps, guile, and wits to stack as much of an advantage they could before their rivals could bring to them a straight fight. It wasn't farfetched to say that they could wipe each other off of Zemuria if they wanted to.

The strong always got what they wanted. That was the way of a jaeger.

Which was why Rutger—her dad—brought it to himself to settle their score once and for all. Before his treasured Zephyr died before their hands. Before his beloved daughter was killed with their blades. And he did so. Alone.

Fie was willing to risk the same... if it meant her friends would be safe.

She had lost the element of surprise, plus, she was caught off guard, leaving her no time to prepare. The jaeger's main squadron was already coming to her—but maybe that was a good thing. If she could keep them off the streets, no one has to get hurt except for her.

A rustle of trees nearby. It was nearly dark now; the sun almost completely set. Just another stroke of luck as stormy clouds drifted in from afar. Everyone assumed she has good night vision, so she was going to make thorough use of it—unlike yesterday.

It's been one long day.

Focusing on her surroundings, Fie stared through the wintry trees for her quarry. Her fingers tightened on her gunswords. Another footstep more and she would jump.

"..!"

Instincts screamed at her to dodge before an orbal bullet whizzed past her. She almost fell off her branch. Another one grazed her hair.

Had they seen her? Impossible. She was _invisible—_unless they brought heat vision. And even then, she would have sensed them coming before she was in their line-of-sight.

No time to think about it now. If they were indeed using something like specialized goggles, then a flash grenade would be effective. She waited for the stunning burst of light before dashing towards her the nearest figure in view.

The wind was knocked out of her as a pounding blast drummed her chest. She skidded on her side, the sharps rocks scraping against her arm. Breathlessly, she pushed herself to her feet and stabbed forward with her two knives.

It pierced through metallic skin.

"Wha—?"

As her mind processed it, an arm extended upwards into a gleaming steel blade. Shifting on its legs, the robotic person struck down like a guillotine.

Fie dodged by a hair's width and backpedaled to flat ground. She couldn't believe her eyes, yet at the back of her mind, she kicked herself for not even considering the possibility.

Ouroboros Androids—humanoid archaisms programmed with elite jaeger tactics and skills, an expendable counterpart to the Society's Enhanced Jaeger Corps. The guild had been tracking their movements when they were first seen in Remiferia. Then in Calvard.

Now right there, standing under Erebonian sky was one such puppet, painted silver and dark red. Its blade retracted into its arm, and from its back, the android brandished a black rifle.

There were a hundred of them, stalking out into the clearing.

Fie laughed.

"It's great that you can't speak. I was getting really stressed. At least I don't have to hear any complaints when I beat you all into useless piles of JUNK."

...It's been a long day.

* * *

'Never go alone' Class VII promised her. It was brought about by necessity. Laura had been the one to diligently support that clause. No one wanted to see their best friend act as she did.

But, Laura can see now that it had the opposite effect on the girl. Fie hated being coddled in the nest. Her heart was in the right place, devoting her life to protect them, and others, as a bracer.

...Even if it costs her her life. Laura was afraid Fie would do so once again.

A scream jolted her back to the present. It came from somewhere in the village. Having already guided the residents of the pier to the ferry, it was time she moved.

What was once the bustling festive plaza now lay abandoned and in disarray. There were no fires, thank the Goddess, but the perpetual red mist made it appear like Legram was ablaze. This irritated her to no end. The fumes were starting to get to her, so she blew it away with a swipe of her longsword.

The scream was further up the stairs, in the train station. On second hearing, it wasn't singular but more of a cacophony of fear. She was never fleet of foot, but her tenacity powered her through the daunting steps.

It seems the RMP had left to reinforce their barricade. It was fine, so long as the jaegers didn't take control of the trains or trespass into her town, they were free to do as they see fit.

Barging past the door, Laura found what was terrorizing her people.

"Help us!"

"A monster!"

A Gordi Schnarr, this far from the forests? The explosions must have drawn it out. With all the people gathered around, no animal could resist such an inviting feast.

The ape reared its massive arms overhead and prepared to roar. Laura had seen it too many times.

"I won't let you!" she yelled, plunging her greatsword into the ground. Underneath the ram-buffoon hybrid, a radiant blade of light surged and skewered the beast in its open mouth.

Her target stunned and muted, Laura jumped high into the air. Fire amassed into her arms as she smashed down with a battle cry. _Armor Rend._

"Fall!"

The blade of light piercing from below, and the full brunt of her craft from above, the Gordi Scharr's face was cleaved in half. Blood and sepith burst from its veins, and its colossal body fell with a thud.

Steam smoldered from her sword as the red, viscous blood slithered down the blunted edge. Another unclean cut, it appears. She needed to get a replacement sword fast. Maintenance was hardly working anymore.

It could wait. Laura turned towards the shrinking crowd. "Are you hurt?" She didn't need to ask; the majority were all healthy and hale, but asking allayed fears, as Fie told her.

Recalling that name did little for _her_ fears, though.

"W-we're fine…" the station attendant said. The paleness on her face grew as she pointed behind Laura. "B-but, over there!"

Trudging through the wilderness into the train tracks was a swarm of hellish monsters. Spiked rabbits and yellow-plated Goldciders desperately fled from the poisonous smoke. The stampede of sable and aurum threatened to swallow the entire station, comparable to a runaway train.

Laura stood her ground.

Distracted. Her father would chastise her for it. Her feet shuffled needlessly, and her fingers quivered as she gripped her sword. Breaths fraying, her thoughts wandered back to the many memories she's had with her best friend.

All the teasing Fie had done to her, at the expense of her dignity. All the lewd and crude jokes she's said just to rile her up. All the prickling and prodding the cat-like girl would do to get her undivided attention. All the times they stood at each other's backs, through thick and thin, victorious every single time.

All the fights they had—most, if not all, was because of her and her stubbornness.

Laura closed her eyes and focused.

Lime-green ones stared back in the darkness. They always blossomed with childish joy whenever she giggled. And if she was told that, Fie would pout adorably, just like the time Laura couldn't answer her calls. Her cheeks were always so snowy and pale, so Laura treasured the times they flushed pink whenever she heard her cute sneeze.

Could she really sacrifice all of that… to protect her people?

She was a knight. Knights never abandoned those under their protection.

Another memory, distant and suppressed, flashed before her.

It was a rainy day when Laura found her.

The moment their gazes met, she knew Fie wasn't herself. No longer were her green eyes filled with vibrant and youthful life. No longer were they hiding sneaky playfulness and benevolent mischief.

It was empty—as if the soul inside was shattered. They were bleeding with tears.

She remembered that haunting mockery of a smile. Fie's smile.

Insanity—perilously close to it.

Fie laughed. What had been once childish giggles to her ears were instead a single pitch away from maddening.

And the blood. By the Goddess_, the blood_. The crimson red encrusted every rege of her being. Her beloved scarf, navy green, was dyed in it. She was bathed in a thick swamp of it.

None of it was hers, but rather of the many—MANY corpses laying beside her.

Only Class VII and the Bracer Guild knew what had happened that day. And Laura was content on keeping it so.

Her eyes shot open. The horde had advanced faster than she anticipated. There were cries of dread all around, and Laura was left with no other choice.

Fie wouldn't die—would never, she said to herself. These people will if she left them alone.

A step forward, her greatsword lowered diagonally towards the ground. Best fell these beasts as quickly as she can.

Though for how long can her blade hold? And for that matter, how long will Fie?

"Hraaa— "

"Hyah!"

Faster than Laura could run, twin figures sprung past her. The silver spears crossed and gored a Hell Rabbit in its maw. In a display of martial skill and finesse, the familiar wielders drew their weapons back.

One was a Noble, middle-aged and clad in leather armor. The other was a youthful lad with aquatic hair. Laura recognized them immediately. "Gaveli! Datt!"

"Lady Laura, please leave this to us," the imposing Gaveli said. His long ponytail swayed with the storming wind. Despite his stature, his voice was every bit as kind as his intentions.

His companion, however, was a little more enthusiastic. "Good thing the four of us were here for the festival," Datt said, flourishing his lance for another assault. "We came running as soon as the explosions started!"

_Four of us_?

A Goldcider stomped towards them, its drill-like horn pointed directly at Laura's midsection. Before she could react, another two figures intercepted the charging rhinoceros. It was pushed back as the earth underneath it crumbled into dust. The greatsword wielder held his blade aloft when the delay of his craft overtook him. "None of these beasts will get past us!" Fritz shouted.

Laura would have commended him on his _Earth Cleaver_, but she hesitated when she spotted the last one. Ares, charged up to the Goldcider's horn and chopped it in one, albeit grieved, arcing motion. His form was both diligent and passionate. It brought a tear to her eye.

They all did. They were her best students. "I'm so proud of you…"

"Don't thank us yet!" another voice spoke from behind. This time that of a young boy, barely seventeen. To this day, his treasured cap never once parted from his auburn hair. The Arseid school's youngest and newest student— their black sheep. His sword was as short as his height.

"Even Julian…" Laura whispered.

His best friend, Karno, was ever at his side. He was already tending to the wounded with his orbment. "We'll handle everything here, Laura! Take care of sis' Fie for us, okay?"

Of course he would be the one most worried about her. He was an aspiring junior bracer, after all.

Frankly, it was all too much. Laura shouldn't take them up on their offer, but their determined yells told her they would be fine. As a Lord and a teacher— no, Instructor— her faith should be in the people. _Her _people.

And that goes the same for Duvalie.

"T-thank you.." Laura choked out. Her dignity had already been in tatters since early morning, so the stuttering and the crying didn't bother her as much. They all replied with a nod.

Past the rush of steel cutting through scales and golden plates, Laura heard the radiant cheers of her hometown. Voices both young and old resounded in her heart as she ran past the gates towards the verdant forests. To Point C.

In the faraway kingdom of Legram, you will never feel alone. You will always have friends and family by your side until the end of time. Though they may not fight, their spirits will always be there for you—waiting for you to come back home.

Mutual support.

It was about time she _clobbered_ this into that aloof, "Bracer" friend of hers.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER XVIII - Legram Winter Festival: Part 3**

* * *

_**Same day, 18:05**_

"Line them up, boys! It's gotta be in one of those crates!" the jaeger screamed at the top of his lungs.

His voice barely reached the other end of the building, though. He wasn't used to feeling so weak. He yelled again, but the gas mask muffled it to his chagrin.

In hindsight, they should have brought flashlights. Though their infiltration was a success, there was no telling when the RMP would bust through the doors and arrest them. All part of the plan; the androids ought to find their target before then. Ideally, they'd get both the princess and this item they were currently busting bullocks for. Hardly matters which one they'll get; either meant coffers upon coffers of mira for _them._

It was just sort of hard to find this 'Black Orbment' with all the red smoke.

"Not here, boss!"

Not in any of the displays or even in the storage room either. That only left the crates.

He would have facepalmed if it wasn't for the infernal mask. "WHO THE HELL ordered so many crates?!"

"Me."

The stained glass windows behind them shattered into tiny rainbow shards. A woman soared through the air as she threw her sword towards the lobby doors. The impact was like thunder, splintering the floorboards and dispersing the red haze that saturated the white museum.

Descending the stairs, Duvalie scowled. "And to what pleasure doth my master owe you for your visit today?" she said as politely as she can through the grit of her teeth.

"Oh, great. It's you," the jaeger commander said. He'd a mind insulting the fangirlish woman but saved his breath. There were easier ways to deal with people like her. "Stay out of this, missy—if you know what's good for you."

"Destroy even ONE of my Lord's belongings, and I will PERSONALLY ESCORT YOU ALL TO GEHENNA."

Bitch. "Aye, but you know what they say… _Ladies first._"

At his command, the jaegers raised their weapons.

"Kill her boys! What good's a knight if she doesn't even have a weapon!"

The loading of black rifles and the unsheathing of silver sabers followed his mocking shout, now echoing in the lavish halls.

Two grappling hooks clung to Duvalie's shield.

"Too slow!"

A flash of steel. Duvalie the Swift shot through the jaeger's formation and crashed shield arm-first into the rear ranks. Subsonic forces embedded a sniper into the wall, knocking him out instantaneously in the crater.

The ones holding the grappling rope were yanked into the air, the museum murals blurring in their visions as their faces, not their backs, met concrete pillars. A greatsword cluttered to the floor, as its wielder's jaw was broken with a solid uppercut. Blood spittled from lips as bodies were slammed into masonry like drumming flesh hammers.

Surrounded, Duvalie lobbed her shield. The metal clanged against jaeger noses and rebounded left and right, before being kicked into a charging jaeger's chest. Like an overzealous bouncer, she punted the stunned men out the windows.

A third of his squadron down in fifteen seconds. "It's just a shield! Kill her already!" the commander bellowed, just as that shield bounced off his face.

Armor dented and cracked under a savage flurry of blows. Not one slash grazed Duvalie's blurring form, shield swipes clobbered the jaegers before they could get close.

Duvalie kept pummeling on their faces until their noses bled. Winded as she was from her sprint, everything felt so damn _slow _for the Swift.

A monster, the commander thought. Just like little old Shirley.

_Where IS she, anyway?_

Giving up on his search, he loaded his weapon, with a maniacal grin. It was a shiny, new model; a rocket launcher, commissioned from the Thirteen Factories. The reticule centered on Duvalie's form.

She stared back with a thin frown.

His fingers pushed on the trigger as a wave of heat burst from the back end of his launcher. A click of a tongue was all he heard before a barrage of missiles bombarded everything in front of him. Pieces of wood and stone were sent flying, the stairs to the second floor completely obliterated. There was smoke again. Tangy— as is usual for orbal powered guns.

A minute ticked by with no signs of movement in the thick clouds. He would have loved to see the aftermath if it wasn't so bloody. The commander strapped the launcher behind his back and groaned— the crates had been left unattended. They needed to find that orbment fast and get the hell out of there.

A luminescent shield broke through the white haze and spun towards him.

His eyes widened in disbelief. Panicking, he drew his backup weapon, a lead submachine gun, and fired.

Time halted as the shining aegis stopped in midair. His shots ricocheted wildly off its surface, too close for comfort, and clipped him in the arms and knees. "Grah—!"

Now weaponless, his face tasted the dirt under Duvalie's feet. She smashed him against her shield and a burst of energy blasted him back.

His body hit the floor, bruised, but very much alive— and unfortunately, conscious.

"We may have been allies once, _Red Constellation..." _

Duvalie clasped her shield to her arm, and from her breast pocket, her ARCUS brimmed with spatial energy.

"And any other time, my Lord would have forgiven you, had you chosen to honor your pride as a Jaeger."

The beaming radiance shrouded her entire body. It contracted to her hand and condensed into a spear of pure light.

A lance.

"But your actions today are a transgression to HER and HER IDEALS! They are beyond forgiveness!"

Duvalie raised her lance towards the remaining jaegers. Her emerald eyes seethed with fury.

"Allow me, Duvalie the Swift, to show you just how pitiful your existences are and deliver onto you THE JUSTICE YOU RIGHTFULLY DESERVE!"

* * *

How many was it now? Fifteen? Twenty?

Oil splattered to her cheeks. Oh, right. Fifty. The fiftieth time the putrid machine blood sullied her skin.

The fiftieth's head was sliced clean off its wiry neck.

Fifty times she's had to strain her wrists just to slice through their damned steel armor. Forty-nine times did her shoulders creak at the effort of swinging her swords once more. Seventy-seven times had her legs cramped from dodging their attacks.

Sixteen oozing cuts bleeding her dry. Twenty-three orbal bullet wounds scalding her torso and limbs.

Twenty-four. This time to her stomach.

Now ten times had she spat the mud from her mouth. Ten times she's got back up gesturing for more. The rain was pouring, so at least nothing stuck to her face.

Another joined the fray. She was sure she's killed fifty. So why does she still count one hundred?

She felt light-headed, and her four hands explained why. She blinked it away and refocused her vision.

Twenty-five— on the forehead. This was the first time she felt freezing shivers up her back as it hit the floor. The first time her legs had refused to move. The first time she couldn't control her breathing.

Not the first time she's wanted to give up.

A deafening march of footsteps approached. Dumb robots. Can't they confirm their kill from a distance?

...Heat sensors. Maybe the frigid rain was messing with their programming.

She was right. They walked past her, still heading towards Legram.

Fifty kills.

Laura could easily do one hundred; Sara maybe two hundred. Rean's would be a thousand. She was so proud of her dearly beloved.

But dying with a measly fifty. If the robots didn't kill her, the hypothermia will.

Weak.

No— she wasn't weak. She could still fight. She needed to protect them— needed to protect Victor, Duvalie, Klaus, Prana, Josef, Weiber, Seria, Miles— all of Legram.

She needed to protect her classmates— her precious friends. Laura, Schera, Rean, Sara, Toval, Alisa, Elliot, Machias, Emma, Gaius, Jusis, Millium, Crow, Vivi, Edel, Xeno, Leo—EVERYONE_. _

_Nobody else would if she died._

She had to get stronger. And stronger and stronger and stronger to get what she wants— to protect those she cares about. For that, she has to kill a hundred more. A thousand more.

_Ten thousand _more.

That was _her _way.

The rain swirled as suffocating winds took her breath. Misty tendrils wrapped around her form, strangling her limbs. Her muscles tensed and inflamed; joints screamed in everlasting pain. She stood up.

An insatiable bloodlust gnawed on her mind, the madness of massacre seizing her thoughts. Insanity twisted the corners of her mouth into a smile, and a black aura swelled from her chest.

These androids were already dead, but it brought her an immense joy that she can kill them regardless. She only needed to cry out.

_War Cry._

"Haaaaa— "

"RADIANT LION!"

A majestic blade roared and blasted a light through the gloom of robotic steel. And there stood a shining, blue-haired prince.

A warm shower doused the black flames emanating from her person. Like tender tears, it soothed the burning pain and stitched the bleeding cuts. The prince had finished casting her spell, and she held out a hand, a gentle smiling pursing her lips.

She spoke in a delicate voice to her. A voice she had sorely missed. "Good evening, my darling princess. Your prince has arrived."

"...What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to protect you… just as you had protected us."

But, she hasn't protected anyone at all. Not yet. How could she? She wasn't strong. Never had been. Always weak. Always being coddled and sheltered.

She felt a hand pat her head.

"How many times do we have to tell you, Fie, that you are never alone. How many times must we make it clear that you mean as much to us, as we do to you."

She wasn't. Not if she can't protect them. She was useless— worthless. A thorn to their side. A lying, backstabbing thief.

A leech.

A napkin wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"How many times must you forget, Fie, that we are _family._"

Family. They were family. She was part of a family.

"...and we stand together."

Like they always had.

"Answer me, Fie. Do you trust us?"

The prince wanted an answer. Fie gave her a wide smile.

The clouds parted way for the luminescent moonlight glow. Laura spoke again with a sigh, "What am I to do with you… What am I to do WITHOUT you. I can't very much leave my _best friend_ to fight alone."

Holding out her fist, Laura smirked. "After all, Laura and Fie…"

"...spells Victory."

It was cheesy, both their lines and the way they fist-bumped each other.

She didn't mind though.

"Now," Laura exclaimed. The way she was bopping in place was kind of adorable. "Let's go kick some robot BEE-HIND!"

…

No. _That _was cheesy. Horribly, _horribly cheesy._ Fie blinked sporadically, her hand coming up to palm her face. A chuckle escaped her lips, and it soon descended into unrestrained laughter.

"D-did I say it wrong?" Laura asked. With the way her face was cringing, she honestly didn't know.

Gasping for breath, Fie barely kept herself from doubling over. "That was a Zero, Laura." She was the one who taught her that phrase anyway. "The term is 'ass'."

"Oh."

Fie grinned — not from madness. She aimed a pistol at Laura.

There was a resonating _clank_. Closing her eyes, Laura smiled and stepped aside.

"...But you get points for trying."

One point. Nailed right into an android's head. Unbalanced, Laura cut the rest of its body in half. Another charged Fie from behind. Its arms were lopped off before it even came close.

Laura weaved slashes through Fie's acrobatic dodging, taking care not to leave her back unguarded. It was weird. She was the 'knight', but somehow, she wasn't getting attacked at all. Fie didn't think much of— it let Laura focus on her form.

Though it would have been nice if they could trade places; cartwheeling around to kick faces was getting tiring.

_Cover._

A machine gun blared. Fie would have felt like being a pin cushion if: a) orbal bullets didn't do that, and b) Laura hadn't blocked the shots for her.

"_Saiyah_!" Probably best then, that Laura blasted the rear shooters with a crescent sword beam. Fie wasn't _that _curious. Missed one gun, though.

It's fine. The android tried to push on the trigger with a finger that wasn't attached to its arm. Fie shook its other hand before Laura knocked it sprawling with a flaming punch. Rude.

A gust of wind stunned another two while a greatsword swept them off their legs. Not fast on their feet apparently. Airborne, Fie buffeted their chassis with a bullet cyclone, reloading with a loud click and let Laura smash them back to the ground.

The archaisms congregated en masse, their visors a wicked red hue. Honestly, a person would have to be colorblind to not see that they were angry.

Did androids even HAVE emotion? Probably not.

"Let's do it, Fie!"

"Ja!"

_Fly._

With a tumble, Laura cleaved the very earth with her blade, the seismic shockwave launching a group of androids into Fie's rending blades. If they were miraculously whole when they fell down, Laura politely swatted them away.

Fie pitched her gunswords to Laura, and, like an unusually _sharp_ game of tennis, she _smacked_ across the field. Pointy ends landed first and gouged through steel chest. Her ARCUS glowing blue, a steaming geyser blasted the android up.

Fie swooped up and wrenched her pistols free. She took aim. Though upside down, scoring multiple headshots like that was _child's play_. Easier than that rigged game back at the festival.

Naturally though, being robots and all, headshots didn't mean squat. Embarrassment flushed her face when Laura reminded her of the fact that she was a show-off.

_Let's see you do better, then._

_I… don't know how to fire a gun._

..._of course you don't._

Rolling her eyes, Fie groaned internally. Nevermind then. Laura was already running ahead.

Or rather, plowed through the robotic horde with her blade of light. One after the other, the androids were decimated into a fiery explosion, eliciting an impressed whistle from Fie.

And they call _her_ reckless.

Blitzing through the mobs, Fie threw her swords like rotating saws, ripping and tearing at their bodies. A circular cut gashed their knees, and from her pocket, she pulled the pin of one of her grenades.

A live one; dangerous to use based on their proximity. She threw it anyway. _Laura, I choose you!_

Like a loyal pet defending its master, Laura blocked the explosion. Greatsword absorbing the remnant orbal energy, she swung twice in a cross, the upward swing hacking androids into the air.

Laura held the blade diagonally to her waist. Below her, a purple clock manifested, its hands ticking faster and faster. Her weapon felt weightless, her body, light. Wide slashes quartered the falling robots in the blink of an eye. Fie smirked, her ARCUS twirling on its chain.

_Thanks for the assist._

_No problem. Here, catch_.

And catch she did. It was beheaded corpse of an archaism. Laura tilted her head. A grenade was lodged in its chest. Eyes widening, she hurled it away just in time to blow up the rest of its friends.

_Fie!_

_Sorry~._

Despite almost being blown to pieces, the hair-brained scheme did spark one Laura's own. With a pirouette, she passed her sword to her partner, and Fie spun with the momentum like a razor top. She flung the blade up and Laura caught it before plunging it into the ground. Piercing dark blades erupted from the earth, skewering everything around them.

Fifty fell to two.

"Now Laura!"

"Right!"

The world sped into a blur as they dashed through their foes like boundless jade bolts. Their combined blades flowed through the hard steel. Fie's light cuts were hammered down with Laura's heavy blows in a sparkling dance of speed and power.

Laura stopped first, and from her greatsword forged an incandescent brand of sun and rime. She swung skyward as a massive column of water froze into a glacial prison.

With sonic speeds, Fie spiraled up the crystal walls. Black runic rings formed along the axis, shattering the ice into tempestuous winds.

Fie reloaded in midair. Laura bore her sword overhead.

Their ARCUS' roared with glimmering light, harmonizing their beating hearts while a fire burned in their eyes. Together, they struck. As one voice, they shouted to the heavens— as a brilliant storm of raging comets and shooting stars rained down to smite those that stood in the way of their victory.

"COMBINATION CRAFT: RADIANT ANNIHILATION!"

* * *

"Get. OUT!"

A crackling boom blasted the jaegers out the doors of the museum. The lobby was already devastated in their scuffle, so now they try to taint the courtyard with their blood and sorry asses?

"How pathetic."

Duvalie stomped towards the entrance and glowered at the jaeger's cowering forms. Despite their Red Constellation name, they hardly posed a challenge, yet had _dared_ to steal from someone like the Steel Maiden.

Her lance pierced the ground with a metallic clang.

"I pray you enjoyed your visit to Saint Sandlot Museum. We hope to NEVER see you again."

The jaeger commander spat in her direction in one last act of defiance, his face beaten black and blue. She would have kicked him while he was down— but the marble statue of Lianne brought some discretion back to her senses.

"If you're done with your tricks, then please leave," Duvalie proposed. Unlike earlier, her tone wasn't fiery. It was a cold and ruthless.

The commander was at least smart enough to know when he was completely outmatched. He had ordered a swift retreat before rescinding it when his communication device flickered on. Duvalie strained her ears to listen.

She heard a bell chime in the distance.

"_Primary target secure, chief. Should we head out?"_

The jaeger commander grinned, and Duvalie regretted letting him keep his teeth. "Proceed to the extraction point. Make sure the princess is treated well, yeah?"

He laughed, seemingly bouncing in excitement. "Let's go, boys. Time to beat it!"

They weren't out of tricks yet. With a cheering yell, the jaegers each threw out a grenade. A flashbang. It illuminated the rainy courtyard in a mass of blinding light. Her eyes were forced shut, and by the time she opened them, the jaegers were already gone.

Just as she wanted them to. If there was one thing those dropouts were good at, it was running with their tails between their legs. If only she could see their broken faces when they realized what had just happened.

There was another familiar chime, somewhere deep in the forests. Duvalie sighed.

"...I guess I owe you _this_ time, _Bell."_

* * *

...they needed a new name. Too long.

"Radiant… Battalia?"

"An archaic term for 'battalion'," Fie explained. "Has a better ring to it than 'Annihilation'."

"Why do you insist on prefixing everything with 'Radiant'?" Laura asked.

"Isn't it, like, a signature of your family or something? Radiant Spin, Radiant Lion, Radiant Phoenix Slash— I thought it was kinda appropriate."

"Well, I have no idea either." Laura's brow furrowed as she racked her brain for any more suggestions. She gave up partway through. "Can't we keep the name? I like it as it is."

"Ehh," Fie whined.

There wasn't much point arguing about it now; maybe they'll ask Machias or Jusis. They were good with words. Fie spread her arms out wider, perfectly content on the muddy rocks. The stars in the sky started to spin, and her drowsiness made it hard to focus. She fought it back, though.

"So what are these, anyway?" Laura asked. She was opposite her, exhausted as well. Fie could guess she was referring to the several dozens of scrap heaps littered around them.

"Robots. Archaisms" was her curt reply. "The usual."

"Ouroboros?"

"Yeap."

"Not your first time?"

Definitely. "I never told you what happened before I came here, did I?"

"No you did not," Laura answered not terribly disconcerted.

"Roer was fun… I guess." They got to fight a giant bird.

"A giant bird?"

"Giant. Mechanical. Bird. That was ON FIRE," Fie added with a tiny bit of flair.

"...and Alisa?"

"Got a new haircut."

"Oh. That's nice," Laura said.

Yeah. It's a shame. Alisa really loved her long, golden hair. Fie was jealous. Alisa's was so silky and smooth to touch, while hers was wild and rough. Crow made fun of her spiky mullet too.

He instantly got kicked for that comment.

Laura giggled. "He's had that one coming. Don't blame him for not dodging."

Ugh. Just thinking about Crow's smug face pissed her off. The worst part was that he kept flirting with _her_ Rean. There was only so much bromance a girl could take before getting annoyed.

Her thoughts drifted to their other classmates. What were they doing now? She hasn't called Rean since yesterday, so she owed him an apology. It was about time she came clean.

"I'm sorry you lost your promotion."

…Oh.

"No… I should've told you sooner. I'm sorry I lied, Laura."

"It's fine."

Forgiveness, just like that. Fie didn't know if she should feel ashamed, or relieved.

She did feel something, though. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words were caught in her throat.

"You're welcome."

"...Stop reading my mind, dammit," she chided, much to Laura's amusement.

Combat links were awesome most of the time... but _goddamnit_.

Hells. It's been one long day.

...

...Not long enough, apparently.

Biting her lips, Fie called out to him. For a man of his size, he can sure sneak around a lot. "I know you're there, Sigmund."

There was only silence… for a minute. It was then broken by a slow, heavy-handed clap. "Impressive as always, _Sylphid."_

Out from the shadows appeared a goliath of a man. A brute. Bulging muscles were one flex away from bursting his skintight bodysuit. His black coat added a formal aura to his visage, but the spiked armor and even spikier beard alluded otherwise. One eye regarded them with an honest fondness.

Fie took it as patronizing, considering the two massive tomahawks strapped to his back.

"No need for the bite," Sigmund said, almost fatherly and disarming. "I come in peace."

A feint, but an opening regardless. If only she could move her arms, she would've struck him down where he stands. Fie frowned instead. "How's _fishing?"_

"Not meaning to brag, but I daresay I'm a match for the Lakelord himself!"

She could never get used to his weird jokes, nor his boisterous laughter.

He laughed like that too—when he _slaughtered_ members of her precious Zephyr.

Laura shared her uneasiness. "Were you responsible for the attack on the RMP? The raid on the museum?"

Straight to the point. That's her girl.

"Heh. I only came here to fish, as Sylphid said." As if it mattered, Sigmund fished out a foldable rod from his knapsack. The same one Fie saw him use last night.

"That was your intent—but it was not your motivation," Laura perused. She gripped her sword tighter. Neither of them could stand up and their ARCUS' weren't charged yet after their last battle.

"I like you, girl. Seeing through me, just like your father."

_Don't let him provoke you, _Fie warned. _Keep him talking. I'll think of something…_

Once again, Fie cursed at their constant uplink of thoughts. Because she has frankly _no_ idea what to do, and one wasn't going to drop into their laps anytime soon.

If Sigmund were to strike now, they were done for.

_Whatever may come, we shall overcome it together. _

"You know my father?"

It was like grasping at straws, but the man had always been the type for stories. "Know him? Who do you think gave me this eye?" Sigmund said while pointing to his eyepatch. "Or took it. You know what I mean."

"I say it's rather fitting," Laura said rather enticingly. "It suits a dashing, young… _herculean man_ such as yourself," she flirted.

Fie blinked.

Laura FLIRTED. Granted, it was dripping with sarcasm— but still! As if her day wasn't odd enough.

_S-shut up! I'm trying to think of topics to discuss here!_

They were in mortal danger. Right. Focus, Fie.

—_Oh hey, maybe you can seduce him with your boobs. You're still in your corset, after all._

...That was NOT what they needed right now!

_Stop blushing, Laura!_

_I can't help it!_

Yes. Combat links even shared sexual thoughts and emotions, among others. How enlightening.

"W-when did you two meet?" Laura asked as she tried to push down—strip away—CEASE TO REMEMBER her lewd thoughts.

That only made Fie's blush worse. Her _own _perverted fantasies transferred over to Laura and came back with a vengeance in a never-ending feedback loop of hot and bothering eroticism.

Oblivious to the girl's plights, Sigmund went on a tangent about how he met Victor Arseid on a job, how they first crossed blades yadda yadda yadda. It was relatively boring compared to various ways he could excite them while pinning them to the ground with his _big, beefy arms_ and choking their necks with his _boorish, bull fingers _and—

HELP.

"So anyway, I saw you two fighting those robots. Quite impressive, especially for you, Sylphid," Sigmund said. With lumbering footsteps, he approached them closer and closer. "My boys have caused you a fair bit of trouble, so allow me to recompense_._"

His hand reached for his knapsack. Fie glared. His weapons were out— did he intend to shoot them instead?

It wasn't looking good. She never let the nervousness show on her face, but just this once, her stoic mask completely broke. He was moving towards _Laura._

With pale cheeks and trembling arms, Laura faced him with unflinching resolve.

Through their link, she cried for help.

Time blurred into that one moment. Fie gnashed her teeth. Laura was going to die, right in front of her. And again she would just be sitting there, like the helpless little girl she is.

Never. Again.

Black aura flooded her veins. Like a silent predator, she snarled as the insanity gripped her mind once more. Second by second, Fie analyzed her prey. His arm was rearing out of his bag. He was holding something delicate. Something small. A pistol. A knife.

Whatever it was, it would be the last thing he ever touched. She stood up, her swords fanged like talons.

In Sigmund's hand…

...was a basket of pretzels.

"Pretzel?"

...Pretzels.

"Come on, eat up. I heard pretzels are good for recovering your strength," Sigmund offered to Laura. She blinked in response.

_It's poisoned._

"Don't worry. It's not poisoned," he reassured.

_It's definitely poisoned._

"I would have to decline," Laura said. Her eyelids fluttered as she tilted her head.

Sigmund seemed to mutter something under his breath. The disappointment was clear on his face. Dejectedly, he returned the basket to his bag and smiled.

"I thought to give you one last meal, but…"

He brandished one of his tomahawks and trained it on Laura's neck.

"If you prefer it this way, then so be it."

His calm demeanor turned death-cold—his voice cruel. Sigmund Orlando raised his axe. An axe to an executioner.

And Laura was to be the executed.

Fie screamed.

"That's enough playing around with my daughter, Sigmund."

There, they heard a voice. Fie braced her arms against an axe that never struck. She stood between it and Laura. Their faces were frozen in terror and disbelief.

The man strolled towards them. A greatsword was held to his side.

Galland-Sharl. "Father!"

Fie would have shouted too if she hadn't collapsed. Saved, she reined in the hysteria that was numbing her senses.

Sheathing his weapon, Sigmund nodded to the other man. "Victor."

"Father, he means to kidnap the princess!" Wasting no time whatsoever. Good Laura.

Victor tilted his head ever so slightly. "Hm?" As a mark of his sheer confidence and stoicism, he regarded the jaeger with a casual, but confused expression. "Is that true?"

Sigmund shrugged. "I tried to tell them, but…"

"Huh…?"

"It seems there has been a misunderstanding, Laura." Victor smiled his radiant smile. "It was I who invited him over to Legram in the first place."

…

Wait.

"WHAT?"

* * *

**'Bring Up Trust' is an underrated battle theme fml.**

**First half of the climax done. Time for boss fights. ****I would suggest reading through 'Trails of Zephyr' though to get some of the references. Specifically chapter 6, for brevity's sake.**

**Reviews, Favs and Follows are appreciated.**

**See ya.**


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER XIX - Legram Winter Festival: Part 4**

* * *

_**Same day, 19:45**_

"Without a leader, the Red Constellation broke apart from the inside?" Fie asked.

Sigmund shrugged. Stroking his beard, the lot of them were sitting cross-legged in front of a campfire. "Before you ask: no, I am not and have never considered myself the leader. That duty falls solely upon the 'War God' and his descendants."

Or more specifically, Randolph Orlando, adjunct instructor of Thors Military Academy, Leeves branch campus.

Laura knew the man through Rean. He seemed friendly enough from their sparse interactions. Randy had engaged himself in the recent Crossbell Liberation, but came back as an Instructor due to the popular demand of his students, on the excuse of repaying his debts to Erebonia and Prince Olivert.

To think that even after all these years, the Red Constellation was still waiting for his return…

"And what of today's attacks?" She was worried about her people— Duvalie most especially— but her questions weren't going to answer themselves. With the way Fie was glaring like a spiteful cat, relying on the usually logical bracer was an exercise in futility.

"Not mine," Sigmund said. "...But I know who's," he added when Fie growled.

Laura nodded and took a sip of her tea — water— to down the flakey pretzels. Sigmund was right, pretzels _were _good for recovering strength.

"And your business with Father?"

"Private," Sigmund answered professionally.

Looking at Victor, he was stone-faced and his eyes dithered to the side. Normally this would never have bothered her; he liked to keep his secrets close to his chest. Laura understood that it wasn't about trusting her or not, but sometimes a matter of national security, like with the Courageous.

But this… This one hurt. She was going to give her father a lecture of his own afterward.

"Pardon us then," Laura said, the bitterness lacing her tongue, "Fie, we should leave these _gentlemen_ to do their 'business'. Let us attend to ours."

"Mh."

"Father, if you will excuse us…" Laura said with a bow. She tried her best not to give him _that _stern of a glare.

It was Sigmund that reciprocated. "There is no need for that. We've already rounded up those that attacked your museum, so don't worry about them."

...We?

"Pardon?"

"I may be no leader," Sigmund said, "but I take responsibility as much as I can in regards to the actions of my corps."

He grinned connivingly. "We jaegers take care of our own. Don't worry about them."

Sigmund's tone sent an unnatural chill up her back. Along with it were… morbid thoughts.

Laura bit down the urge to stutter. "You have captured them… and then what?" she asked him. All emotions left her voice too. "Kill them?"

No answer. Just a smirk that bordered on manic. _"We take care of our own."_

"...I cannot allow it," Laura said, as stoic as she can through the sudden weakness of her legs. They shook, but she forced them to stand.

Fie stared at her, wide-eyed. "Laura?"

"That is enough— "

"Please stay out of this, Father," Laura interrupted. It had barely been a day since the two of them made up, but her expression was as fierce as earlier in the morning. "Under good conscience, I refuse to allow any more bloodshed on this day. Not if there's something I can do about it."

Should she? She was defending the very same rogues that threatened her beloved town. They were the ones that spurred a horde of monsters towards her people. They were the ones that sent the archaisms that almost killed her best friend.

But from Miles' call, there were absolutely zero casualties throughout the attack. Many injured, but alive nonetheless. It was as if the entire incident had been blown out of proportion. Duvalie kept the jaegers away from the museum, while Princess Scherazard's presence calmed the panicked citizens. They were also able to avert any major disasters by intercepting the androids before they reached Legram.

Everything was actually _well_, but the prospect of the perpetrators getting executed was the one thing Laura could not accept.

"I have no knowledge of how the Red Constellation handles such matters, but…" she said.

Sigmund raised a brow. "But?"

Zephyr surfaced from her memories. With determined eyes, Laura spoke their own sordid words. "I can always beat you into doing what I want. That's how jaegers do business, right?"

Sigmund was silent for a moment before his lips curled into a smile. "…Heh"

"Laura, don't— "

"I accept— " Sigmund said. He stood up from his seat and kicked dirt to douse the campfire. " — I offer no promises, but I will consider doing as you say on the condition you defeat me under MY conditions."

"That is acceptable," Laura said. She grabbed her sword from where it rested and followed after the man. Maybe it was the exhaustion— maybe it was from staring at the ax that nearly decapitated her strapped to his back that Laura tripped on her feet.

The third time she did, her arm was caught by the familiar pair of slender ones. Fie pulled her up, soft compassion replacing the sharpness of her gaze.

"Thank you, Fie." Laura took another step, but she was tugged back. Fie was holding her hand as she stood in place.

They knew each other all too well.

Laura patted the smaller girl. "I'll be fine," she said while brushing away the silver fringes of hair from her face, "Trust me."

Fie shook her head, but let go anyway. Her empty hand fiddled with the ends of her scarf instead. _You owe me one,_ was what it translated to from Fie-nese.

Laura laughed. Honestly, she wanted to enjoy the rest of the festival with her best friend as much as Fie.

What followed was silence, except for the sounds of footsteps trekking through the forest— not even buzzing of insects. The smoke had scared away the fauna, and only they were alive under the overcast sky.

The fog had crept into the fields now as well.

Crunchy leaves were replaced by muffled grain. Laura realized they left the forest and had reached the lakeshore. The clearing was a familiar sight. She had been here just this afternoon— the same place where she had her duel with Fie.

How did Sigmund know of it? Laura tried not to think much of it. Merely coincidence, she reasoned.

Sigmund stopped right where the waves receded from the beach. He turned around to face them, his grin growing excitedly as he drew his weapons. Laura did the same.

She glanced at her father. Victor had been tight-lipped for a while now, due to no small part from her. It was evident from his steel gaze, however, that he had no desire to intervene.

"I won't be unreasonable," Sigmund said. "The conditions of this challenge will be simple."

He crossed the shafts defensively in front of him. The glare from hazy moonlight exuded an imposing aura from the twin axeheads. "Make me kneel with one strike, and you win." He laughed heartily. "Easy, right?"

Easy on paper, Laura thought, but looking at his brutish form told otherwise. Sigmund knew her weakness: the speed and accuracy of her attacks.

He was toying with her, almost scarily so. One strike, without moving at all?

"Very well." She took her stance. If it was a trap, she'd be falling right into it. Sigmund might suddenly dodge and counter when the delay from her attack rendered her motionless.

But Laura was getting sick of complexity; the basicness of the challenge was refreshing. She wouldn't admit it, but she liked simple.

She glanced at her father again. Her mouth opened for a request, but the indifferent expression on his face somewhat irritated her.

"...Fie, do you mind officiating?"

Fie was surprised by the sudden mention but nodded along. She went in between Laura and Sigmund and raised her hand. "Ready?"

"Ready," Laura called out.

"One strike." Sigmund gripped his axes tighter. The muscles on his arms and chest almost ripped out of his bodysuit. "Ready."

That was all she needed. She saw Fie raise her hand higher but no more.

Laura closed her eyes and focused. Through meditation, she had learned how to temper her thoughts into still water. Her sword was her power wrought in steel, just as the hands holding it was forging it with blazing fire. Her breath became one with the wind, and her soles dug into the sand. There was no time to adjust the evenness of the ground, so she shifted her backfoot, gaining a little more stability in her posture. She angled her weapon downwards.

One strike, with all her strength. That was all she needed.

"Begin!"

Laura sprung forward like she had a thousand times before. Wings of light radiated from her blade. She raised it overhead.

There was no hesitation in her swing.

"RADIANT PHOENIX SLASH!"

Steel struck steel in an explosion of azure inferno. Surging upwards, it engulfed them both and illuminated the night.

The whirling flames blasted Fie off her feet. She yelped in pain when her butt hit solid rock but regretted it when bits of sand flew into her mouth. She spluttered it out on reflex.

As she did, the broken half of a greatsword impaled the ground beside her.

The blue fires dispersed. Laura stood there, holding the other half. It was snapped right through the middle like a fragile branch. Her arms trembled as she stared at the man that took the full brunt of her S-craft head-on.

He was smiling. He was scorched; the dark burns were clear on his face. Yet, Sigmund was smiling.

With a groan, he fell to one knee and strained a laugh. "Well done…"

Laura tried to balance herself with her sword but failed to register that it was indeed broken. She staggered back and collapsed with a thud, the sandy beach a welcome cushion for her rear. She felt a singeing heat from her pocket. Taking out her overheating ARCUS, she threw it aside along with the broken sword.

"I hope that settles it," she said with a sigh of relief. "Surrender the jaegers to the Railway Military Police and leave. Please— "

Her words paused when the monster she just defeated stood up. The axes were glued to his hands. Smoldering marks were still there and so was the searing scent, but Sigmund walked it off like it was nothing.

Everything she had into one blow— and it was _nothing._

Sigmund smiled again.

"...!" Something was caught in her throat as he calmly approached her. Instinct was overwhelming her. Laura crawled back with every step he took. Her lips quivered out of control.

She had been naive.

The wet sandy footsteps weren't whispering to her ears. They drew closer.

"S-stop…"

It didn't stop.

"...Sigmund."

When Laura opened her eyes, Sigmund was laughing. He turned towards the deep voice. "Aye, I'll keep my word. But I won't leave until _our _business is done."

"I would prefer it that way as well," Victor said.

The strong arms of her father pulled her up. Laura clung to them absentmindedly and drove herself to speak. "T-then, the jaegers?"

"Bothersome, but I'll have someone hand them to the RMP as you said," Sigmund answered.

Laura let out the anxiety in her breath.

"...But, before that…"

This time, Sigmund addressed the other girl among them. Fie had been quiet for some time now, and it took Laura only now to figure out why.

She was biting her scarf. Meaning that Fie was hiding her displeasure. "What?" she asked, muffled from the cloth covering her mouth.

"You too have something you want from me, right?" Sigmund asked.

"..."

"Fie…?"

She looked away. "...Just a question."

Sigmund regarded her impassively, his axes resting over his shoulders. "Shoot."

Fie hesitated for what felt like forever. "That scar…" she finally said. Her eyes gleamed over Sigmund's chest. "Who— no. There's only one person who could have done that."

Scar?

Squinting, Laura saw that past Sigmund's frayed suit that there was a large gash diagonally across his entire body. It reached up to his shoulders and down to his waist. It was like the jaeger had been fed through a buzzsaw— Oh no.

Fie's stare became as cold as ice. "Where's Shirley?"

"Gone. AWOL for several months now. As I told you: if she wanted to disappear, she would."

"...Why?"

"It's as you're thinking. Left me this as a goodbye present. She just barely missed ripping out my heart— can't say the same for one of my lungs," Sigmund said while beating a fist to his chest. The impact caused him to cough as if to prove a point.

Fie winced the slightest bit. "..."

"Heh. You two really make a great pair. Your talents for murder would make the 'War God' proud."

It was probably a joke, given that he was laughing, but Fie took offense. Undoubtedly so. She snarled fiercely. "I'm NOTHING like her."

"Tell that to Nidhoggr."

Suddenly, the sound of crashing waves in her ears ceased. It was rare given how composed she was, but the casual mention of that name sent Laura into a fleeting panic.

Fie was staring at him in shock. Her mouth was agape. She opened and closed it but nothing came out. Sigmund said the words for her.

He knew.

The Reichsadler Incident.

"...You're quite famous now, huh _Sylphid?_"

Laura shouted. Far too late.

"Like how an eagle preys on the snake, a former member of the great Zephyr massacred an entire squad of jaegers from Nidhoggr— all by herself," Sigmund said. "Did you think I WOULDN'T find out?"

"I said SHUT IT!" Laura shouted again. Like pounding drums, she stomped towards the two of them.

Fie held Laura's arm, along with her own, the nails digging into both their skins. She was panting heavily. Her eyes darted all over before she blinked it to a stop.

Calming down slightly, Fie spoke in a weak voice. "...I'm okay, Laura."

"So… tell me what it is you truly want, _Sylphid_," Sigmund asked once more. From his tone, it was clear that he wouldn't ask again.

"Fie…" Laura moved to hug her friend, but Fie pulled herself away.

_You know I don't like using it, Laura._

She wouldn't. Laura hoped she wouldn't.

"...Tell me how to use it."

She did.

"War Cry."

* * *

**Reichsadler = Imperial Eagle.**

**Another double chapter as I really needed to split the other half due to the content. I find that writing smaller chapters is better when I'm not busy, so I hope you wouldn't mind.**

**Yes. This was all foreshadowed way back in _Ymir,_ so it didn't entirely spur from the moment. Definitely.**

**No A/N next chapter again due to the content. **

**Reviews, favs and follows are appreciated. See ya.**


	20. Chapter 20

**[INTELLIGENCE DIVISION CASE FILE #997]**

[_Report on the Second Assault on the Imperial Guilds_]

In S1207, a series of attacks on Erebonia's Bracer Guilds was recorded similar in nature to five years prior, in S1202. The perpetrators from the [first assault] were later identified as the [Jester] jaeger corps and were subsequently captured with a joint operation involving the Imperial Army and the Bracer Guild, along with Cassius Bright, an S-rank bracer. The secondary attacks, however, were from a different jaeger corps: Nidhoggr— the same corps responsible for the events codenamed [Daybreak].

April S1207, a set of explosives was detonated in the vicinity of the newly constructed Ymir guild branch. The tremor caused an almost instantaneous avalanche that swallowed an estimated 2.3 selge radius area around the building. No efforts have been made to dig through the snow and salvage what was left as there were no reported casualties. The guild branch had since been abandoned and was never reestablished as of the writing of this report.

…

Forensics revealed that the attack on the Ymir branch was a ploy to lure out both Rean Schwarzer, the [Divine Blade] and biological son of the late Chancellor Giliath Osborne, and one **Fie Claussell**, a B-rank bracer affiliated with the Legram branch and adoptive daughter of Rutger Claussell, founder and former leader of the jaeger corps [Zephyr].

Both individuals, along with a representative of the Nortian government, Alisa Reinford, participated in the investigations led by Intelligence Division Captain, Lechter Arundel.

…

Some time between May and June S1207, located south of what was once the village of [Hamel], the grave of Rutger Claussell was desecrated. Evidence suggests that the unidentified vandal was associated with the culprits behind the attacks on the Erebonian Bracer Guilds.

The investigation proceeded onward with added input from former members of Nidhoggr that joined on behalf of the Crossbell branch of the Bracer Guild: B-rank bracer and Nidhoggr squad leader Nacht Weiss, and regimental commander Aili Adler. Both had been key figures during the events of [Daybreak].

…

...

Three days after the news of Rutger Claussell's desecration, the mutilated corpses of several Nidhoggr jaegers were found in an abandoned village near the borders of the Calvardian Republic and the Principality of Remiferia. There were no survivors. The person responsible for the murders was suspected to be **Fie Claussell**.

The proceeding interrogation was deemed unsuccessful as the suspect was diagnosed with a severe case of mental instability and traumatic stress, resulting in extremely violent aggression to the most basic of stimuli interspersed with long periods of lethargy and catatonia. Sedatives and antidepressants were administered to the suspect during the respective phases.

Major injuries to personnel were incurred during the [captivity], chief among them being representative Alisa Reinford. Ms. Reinford suffered multiple contusions, broken bones, and concussions when the suspect had attempted to kill her. Psychological analysis hints that the motive may have been brought about by jealousy, but this remains to be proven.

The Intelligence Division henceforth codenamed the entire incident as [Reichsadler]. It is currently unknown who had hired the jaeger group Nidhoggr.

…

The backlash should [Reichsadler] be made public would destabilize the already volatile relationship between Erebonia and the neighboring countries as a consequence of [Operation Jormungandr]. Opinions would shift dramatically and will start to question the leadership of Erebonia. This is partly due to the [estrangement] of former Crown Prince Cedric and the [disappearance] of Crown Princess Alfin.

Furthermore, the relations between the Bracer Guild and the future Empress, Princess Scherazard, would serve as an indicator of the Royal family's misguided bias towards bracers. Prince Olivert had been a direct benefactor for the Bracer Guild and fully supported its presence in the Empire. It should be noted that the Erebonian nobility had never agreed upon the reinstitutionalization of the Bracer Guild.

With both external and internal conflicts weighed in, the Bracer Guild along with the Intelligence Division had decided that [Reichsadler] should be kept away from the public eye. The suspect, Fie Claussell, would be put into a semi-probation state for one year and will not be allowed to venture outside of Erebonia on the suggestion of her mentor and caretaker, Sara Valestein. All this was mutually agreed upon by the involved parties.

Should Fie Claussell ever leave the country without a permit and/or exhibit signs of mental deterioration or relapse, the Bracer Guild would be mandated to forthwith revoke her status as a bracer.

It is advised that the Intelligence Division continue to monitor her situation until the probation period expires.

[_End Report_]

* * *

...

...

...

[From: Rocksmith Agency, 1st Division]

[To: General Staff Office]

[Raising the threat level of **Fie Claussell **(B-rank bracer) to Level 5 effective immediately. The subject will be put under strict surveillance should she enter the Republic again.]


	21. Chapter 21

**Just wanted to make it clear that I MAY have posted the previous two chapters at the same time. So if you missed one chapter, thats probably it.**

**As for mood, 'Unfathomed Force' Ao version.**

**This and the next chapter will be rated M for reasons. Enjoy.**

* * *

**CHAPTER XXI - Limitless Power**

* * *

"Tell me how to use it. War Cry."

"And... what will I get in return?"

She couldn't say. Mira? Information? A free pass to leave Legram? If Sigmund wanted any of those, he wouldn't have shown himself. He was strong enough to get them by force.

That was the way of the jaeger.

"Don't be reckless!" Laura shouted. "Fie, you know what will happen if you lose control."

Fie did remember.

She remembered the anger she felt at Nidhoggr. Her dad's humble gravestone riddled with bullet holes- surrounded by the burnt corpses of flowers she diligently grew.

She remembered their expressions. They cried mercy when she tore their entire faces off and disemboweled them with her knives. It bathed that small town in a flood of red.

She remembered being strapped to a chair. Her voice echoed in the empty room as she shouted and screaming for her friends— for anyone. Nobody came, except for doctors she didn't know stabbing a needle through her arm. They were afraid.

She also remembered Alisa. Her tender touch, the frailty of her fingers— how easy it was to twist it broken, along with her wrist, and then her arm. Her chest split agonizingly loud with just one punch. She would have snapped her neck too if the smashing of skull against the steel desk didn't sound so pleasant.

She remembered how, for the briefest moment, Rean looked at her like she was a monster.

Fie remembered all of it.

If she went insane again, there would be no more forgiveness. No pardon. No abuse of a loophole. The Bracer Guild would kick her out and she'd be bringing down Prince Olivert and Schera with her.

Then the rest of her miserable life will be spent in a prison or an asylum. She would be alone again. Forever.

That _scared _her.

But… she was tired of running away. It had to stop. 'Fie Claussell' was strong.

"...That's more like it," Sigmund said with a feral expression that mirrored her own. "That's the face of a jaeger."

The face they make when they really wanted something— when they were willing to risk their lives to get it.

"So you'll do it?"

He shrugged and shook his head slowly. "If I had done so properly to Shirley, then maybe none of this would have happened. My mistake. Allow me to make up for it now."

From his pouch, Sigmund tossed up a pill. A Zeram Capsule. He devoured it with a brittle crunch.

"Laura, stay back," Fie ordered. She wanted nothing more to plead to her best friend to do so but steeled her words. How many times had she betrayed her, just today?

At the very least, them being here brought a small relief. She turned to Victor. Stoic as a gallant knight, yet with sadness clear on his face.

"Uncl— Victor… if I lose control…if I hurt anyone else..."

No going back. Them being here meant she could ask her ridiculous request.

**\- If I hurt anyone… Kill me. -**

"...Understood." He smiled, even though she had begged him for the impossible. "Although, forgive me for having faith that you will not let that happen."

Fie smiled back. Victor was strong too, for accepting so willingly.

"Fie, stop it…"

"I'm sorry, Laura."

_Please… step back._ _Don't get in the way._

"Ready?" Sigmund asked. The hideous burns faded to fresh pink skin due to the medicine. Now, he looked no worse for wear other than his tattered clothes. He raised his two axes in a battle stance and stared with a silent frown. From what little Fie heard of him, the War Ogre was never quiet, especially not on the battlefield.

She drew her gunswords; fully loaded with plenty of cartridges to spare. Whether that was a good thing or not, she was about to find out. "Ready."

"No rules. Unleash everything in an attempt to strike me down."

Red mist. Fire. Rage. They swirled around Sigmund's form as the ground underneath them shook. He bellowed, guttural and relentless. A demonic cry evocative of a rampaging ogre roared in the night. He grinned, the veins on his body swelling with ill-contained power. "Show me, _Sylphid_. That speed you are so proud of."

Fie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. There wasn't a need to shout; only open her heart to it— the darkness harbored within the being known as a 'Jaeger.'

A black aura surged forth, engulfing her in a dark mass bleeding into the shadows. Pain gripped her in a tight embrace. It was overwhelming as if it wanted to rip and tear out of her body. To free itself, and go berserk. The more she restrained it, the more the headache would ravage her mind. Esmelas markings engraved into her skin— the result of her nerves absorbing so much elementally aspected mana.

She leaned forward.

Dust and sand flew as she shot up and landed a heel on Sigmund's face, rupturing his wounds anew. He staggered back, and a foot slugged his opposite cheek. Twisting her body, Fie stomped both feet into an iron-like jaw, shattering it on impact. An ax swung overhead, but it hit nothing except mist as it slammed deep into the sand.

With fanged teeth, Sigmund smirked. "War Cry is nothing more than a way to unlock a person's inner potential, slumbered within the shackles of their human limits."

He swung wildly behind him. Light feet skidded on the sand as an invisible blur jumped back to dodge it. "It's no different from the techniques used by martial artists to achieve the same effect."

Victor nodded in agreement. "Just as a sword comes in many forms, so too does a person's power. It is simply a part of their individuality."

"But yours…" Sigmund continued. He brought his ax up and blocked a continuous flurry of slashes. "Yours is special."

The haze dissipated. Fie appeared a few arges away, glaring. Her scarf rippling with the wind around her. "Special how?"

Sigmund cracked his neck and pointed to himself as he spoke. "Yours… is just like mine and Shirley's."

Ogre Cry.

"Do you not feel it? That overbearing voice on the back of your mind tempting you. Telling you to riot to your heart's content by offering you power beyond your wildest imaginations."

She did. That piercing shrill that wouldn't stop. The moment she gave in to it, the madness would take over. "Why?"

It was a more powerful version used exclusively by members of the Orlando bloodline. The exact details were unknown, but it's said that Ogre Cry was developed during the Dark Ages when the Red Constellation was regarded as a clan of berserkers.

Sidestepping a tomahawk soaring towards her, Fie grabbed it by the handle and threw it back, aiming for the torso. She missed. "Why am I special?"

She was neither an Orlando, nor a descendant from a long line of jaegers. She was an orphan. So why her?

"War Cry feeds off negative emotions," Sigmund said, yanking back his ax by the chains. "Anger, hate, sadness, frustration, doubt, envy, grief, despair…"

His eye gleamed menacingly. "...Fear."

Fie grit her teeth. The headache was becoming worse, but she forced herself to listen.

"Fear of death, fear of loss, fear of what tomorrow will bring. Jaegers grapple with that fear every day. It's what makes us strong. Drives us to fight… and to _kill."_

The knuckles turned into white as Sigmund held up a fist. "The stronger the fear, the stronger your War Cry becomes. Tell me then, Sylphid…"

_What is it you fear the most?_

"Shut it!" Fie cried before once again fading into the mist.

Rasps of steel on steel sent burning sparks as gunswords came in a reckless barrage. Sigmund parried them, blow for blow, despite nearly being blinded by the flashes. He frowned. "That's right. You don't fear _anything."_

Another strike, from above. A grenade fell to his side and exploded in a dust cloud of sand and debris. He shrugged it off. "You are _strong._ You don't need the strength; you have your speed."

Despite the invisibility, Sigmund caught her by the leg and threw her over the shoulder.

Catching herself mid-air, Fie stared in shock. She clicked her tongue and reapplied the stealth. Dodging another blow, she cut twice in rapid succession and retreated to fire charged shot at his feet. He lurched, just far enough to have his face scarred against a sharp vertical slash. Her ARCUS gleamed, and she blasted him back with an arrow of lightning. An ax came again, but she was already gone.

"But… having the fastest speed in the world..." The wound on his face bled torrents of blood, staining his shirt. Sigmund yelled in a frenzied voice. "… makes you PREDICTABLE."

An ax sailed right in front of her; hurled in the path she was about to pass through. Fie stopped herself just in time before she did.

"Guh— ?!"

Using that fraction-of-a-second distraction, Sigmund closed the distance between the two of them and punched her in the stomach. The sheer force buckled her legs, and she felt the blood shooting up her throat. Before she could spit it out, a brutal fist slammed between her eyes, sending her sprawling several arges away.

"Fie!"

"Speed without strength amounts to nothing more than running away!" Sigmund shouted. The grim aura surrounding him pulsated with raw fury. "In that same vein, power without fear to guide it is merely senseless and misplaced bravado. It will _never _be TRUE strength. That lies when you can fight AGAINST that fear!"

The thunderous voice opposed with the crashing waves. "Accept it! Accept that fear and let it course through you. Force your instincts to FIGHT! That is the power of an ogre— of a 'Jaeger!'"

"Please, stop this— !" Laura cried out.

"WAIT!"

With a clamor, Fie stood up. The world spun around her in a lightheaded daze. Her knees shook, and the spittle and sand tarnished her lips. With just one blow, she felt her stomach inflame.

Her swords shook as she gripped them tighter. With a ferocious snarl, Fie glared, her cheeks stained with blood tearing from her eyes and forehead. "I'm not… running away…"

Fear? She was afraid of dying. Everyone was. It was a simple fact. War Cry fed on her negative emotions, something which she has plenty of other than fear.

She WAS strong. If Sigmund couldn't see that, she'd show him.

"One strike— same as Laura!"

"..."

Savage gusts of winds tore apart the nearby trees and gathered into a storm. The mana infusing her burst as a dreadful obsidian haze. Her weapons glistened through the darkness.

"I'll show you… I'll show everyone…"

Everyone who ever doubted her. Those who had indulged her— kept her safe and sheltered from the cruelty of life. Those who had protected her when she needed to protect herself.

Those she failed to protect…

...Those who called her 'Fie.'

"I'm… not… WEAK!"

A sonic howl boomed into the night. A goring slice resounded in the whirling winds. The bright green Esmelas was stained red and choked of rust, like a furious tornado of blood. It swirled and churned, blowing away the leaves and sand in the surrounding area.

When it all settled, there was only silence...

Two figures remained standing.

Fie stared with wide eyes and a blood-splattered face. A river of sanguine trickled down her swords from the gaping wound it had buried into. Both flesh and muscle lacerated, Sigmund's arm only stayed attached by the bones.

She -_didn't- _cut through the bone.

Sigmund stood there, unflinching, as the weapon plunged in his arm jostled nervously. His frown molded into a scowl.

"...You should've aimed for the neck."

A hand grabbed her by the neck. Like a branch, her spine groaned from the crushing vice. Fie tried to pry herself free, but the more she did, the harder the pressure wanted to pop her head. The air had forsaken her, but Sigmund choked every last bit of it away from her lungs. Flailing her legs, Fie cried out in desperation. Tears stained her eyes as she struggled in vain.

"You will ALWAYS be weak," Sigmund said remorselessly through the thrashing and screaming. He rotated his grip, sending cruel pain as the death grip twisted her neck. Fie screamed again.

"No matter what new strength you claim to possess, you will NEVER be as strong as you were when you were a jaeger. If you can never accept your existence for what it is, your blade will forever be dulled by the life you've led in peace!"

Merciless. The life was being mercilessly squeezed out of her. Her vision dimmed, bit by bit.

"To live on life's edge, and to desire a dance with death until our bloody fate takes us. THAT is what it means to be a 'Jaeger!'"

Fie could only claw at the arm strangling her. As she sobbed and cried for help, the harsh truth finally dawned on her.

She was weak.

Too weak to live. Too weak to save herself. Too weak to protect anyone else.

Too weak to protect _him_.

"D..dad…"

"ENOUGH!"

A greatsword overflowing with light leveled to Sigmund's neck. Galland-Sharl.

"Enough of this!" Its wielder snapped with bloodshot eyes. Laura shouted again. "Let her go, or I'll cut you down myself!"

Victor glanced at his disarmed hand.

"...Even now, you stand with those who you deem as stronger," Sigmund said, the disappointment freezing his stare. "Those who would protect you, without asking for anything in return."

His hand turned a few agonizing degrees more. "You will always be just a _weak and fragile little girl._"

Murder flashed on Laura's face. She swung down with unbridled fury, Galland-Sharl morphing into a gleaming edge of darkness.

She was stopped with a single tug of an arm from Victor.

At the same time, Sigmund finally let go. Fie crumpled into a messy heap, gasping for breath. Only now did the blood in her throat vomit out of her along with the heaving coughs.

"Fie!"

Sheathing his axes, Sigmund glowered with his one eye. A brutish ogre, in all sense and form, deprived of his kill. "That day will come. Shirley WILL find you. And she WILL kill you if you continue to live in this delusion you call your 'strength.'

"She will kill you, and all those you hold dear… And it will be _your fault," _Sigmund said before departing towards the misty wilderness. His gait was heavy and determined. He clearly did not want to be followed.

Fie didn't hear any of it. Didn't care. Like a ceaseless migraine, the parting words blared in her mind. That was her reality.

_My fault for being too weak to stop her..._

Laura kneeled beside her, Galland-Sharl back into its base, lightless form. She wasted no time to cast a healing art.

"Did he mean to say that Shirley will…" Laura made to ask before hesitating. She shook her head with a fervent, but gentle smile. "Please don't worry, Fie. If she comes, we shall face her together. Like always."

Always. Fighting side-by-side.

...

"And, I'm sure Class VII would be right there along with me, supporting you," Laura spouted. "We will never leave you alone— "

"...Shut. Up."

" — ?"

Fie's voice cracked from the strain of disuse. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!"

She slammed her fists on the piss-poor ground over and over. Her nails dug into the sand. Some got into her eyes. She rubbed it off on her scarf. It irritated her beyond hell. "Stop giving _shit _about this 'friendship' crap! It's BULLSHIT."

Laura gaped.

"Didn't you hear what he said?!" Fie yelled again. "I'm WEAK. Always will be! Stop making it seem like that's OKAY!"

"Fie… I don't— "

"I SAID SHUT UP. You don't understand because you NEVER WILL."

She glared with jagged and serrated sharpness. "You don't get it, Laura, because you're STRONG. Always had been. Stronger than me!

"Every single _freaking _day you train yourself. And every single time you get stronger and stronger. I do the same thing, but WHY THE HELL am I weaker than you?! Why the hell do I have to be pitied by you?! It's _fucking disgusting_!"

The great Galland-Sharl weighed nothing in her hands as she struck it against the sand. Fie swung, again and again, hoping that the grains would vanish from her sight. Laura reeled away from the carnage.

"Laura this, Laura that… How do you think it makes me feel when I only won because _fucking LAURA _was there to save the day? Shit, that's what! Please save me, O' noble Laura S for shitty Arseid! Whatever shall I do without you? Gods, that so _pathetic, _I should just _fucking _kill myself!"

Her throat ached with the fiery words as her heart drummed in her chest. She tossed Galland-Sharl aside and covered her ears. The headache was getting worse. Saying the words aloud alleviated it a bit, so she didn't stop. Neither did she stop the prickling sensation forming in her eyes.

"**I HATE IT**. I hate hate hate hate it! I hate YOU. So stop pitying me and spouting all this nonsense about fighting together. I'll only end up getting you killed!

"Stop making me feel like everything's okay! Stop treating me like I'm some helpless little girl! Stop making it feel like it's MY fault for being WEAK!"

It felt good. No restraints. No hesitation when she shoved Laura down. Her sincere hatred. Her true feelings. She shouted, at the top of her lungs.

"_I hate you! _**So stop making me feel like I'm a GODDAMNED LEECH!**"

_..._

Fie fell to her knees and panted, the adrenaline rushing out of her all at once. Her tortuous headache was gone, and her muscles slackened lethargically. She no longer felt the strain of carrying the swirling vortex of her negative emotions. Like the rain slowly descending upon them, they were all washed away.

Leaving only the regret.

"...I— "

Did she dare? Dare look into her friend's eyes after what she said? What DID she say? She couldn't even remember all of it.

What she did remember, she would regret for the rest of her life.

_I… hate her…?_

Feet shuffled from behind. It approached, slowly.

Whimpering in a panic, her legs bolted her away. Fie ran and ran, never looking back at the tears devastating Laura's face.


	22. Chapter 22

**Trigger warning. Just... yeah.**

* * *

I ran and ran. Didn't matter where I went; anywhere was better than Legram.

The rain froze my bleeding forehead and the wind slapped drenched silver hair to my face. Biting my tongue to stop myself shivering, I ran.

It's amazing how I could trip over nothing. I fell in the mud. Wiping the disgusting paste off my face, I got up and ran again. Didn't make a few steps before I tripped again— on to the solid rock. My cheek felt cut.

I got up and fell worse. Only then did I bother to look at why. The Strega sneakers I proudly wore had the laces untied. Useless. Have fun in the river you stupid piece of crap.

Only when my bare feet stepped on what seemed like broken glass did I stumble again. The sharp, stabbing pain was familiar to me— and so were the bruises on my arm. I ignored them. Couldn't get up, though.

Something glistened on the ground beside me. Unhesitatingly through the raw sludge, I dragged myself to it. It must have fallen from my pocket. I hugged it close to my chest and cried to Aidios that I'd noticed. I couldn't bear the thought of losing it. Ever.

It was a lighter. Small and unused.

I hobbled forward, taking care not to let go of the lighter in my hand. It didn't matter where I went; be it a monster den or leech-infested waters. I belonged there. I didn't have my weapons, and I dropped my ARCUS— a small blessing. I didn't want to hear the voices of those I left behind.

Would they come looking for me? I couldn't run forever. Legram was near the border, so I might be able to escape to Calvard. Did I even want to?

If I did, I would be abandoning everything I ever had. My family, my job, my home… Rean…

Was I strong enough to take that thorny path alone?

Of course I was… but Fie Claussell wasn't.

Fie Claussell was weak— the weakest person alive. Fie Claussell should've died long ago for being such a weakling. She was a burden. A leech. She only existed to be coddled and protected and to bring suffering to those that do.

But I wasn't.

I hated that name. Loved it too. 'Claussell' was a gift— but 'Fie' was a smirch.

How did she get the name? I'll tell you. It was raining that evening too, I think. Summer.

A little girl ran, same as me. Why, or when, she didn't know. But she wasn't alone. The Grim Reaper chased after her, disguised as black-suited men. Their faces were cloaked in terrible masks, and their swords swung like scythes. Gunshots blared in her ears like scary fireworks. They were shooting at her.

A bullet clipped her leg. Screaming and mewling, a boot stomped her throat. The men kicked at her. Over and over. She couldn't breathe. Only when an indescribable sensation burrowed into her chest did the kicking and the stomping stopped. It smelled of lead and gunpowder.

The men had shot her. She didn't know it at the time. All she knew was the pain— the inexplicable pain.

The fear.

A burst of laughter mourned her as she laid there, dying. Smug faces haunted her vision, and she soon lost consciousness.

When she woke up, she was at an orphanage. The couple running the place said that they found her at their doorstep, alone but alive. Someone had taken her there as they didn't know where she lived. She wanted to ask who, but no words came out. She couldn't speak.

That's when they started calling her Fie.

Wrong. The little girl pointed to herself. She wasn't 'Fie.' That wasn't her name.

Her name was Filia.

Mom and Dad called her that.

Try as she might, the couple couldn't understand her silent blathering. She didn't know her last name; couldn't write at the time either— only barely read. The other kids in the orphanage chimed in. Some smart-ass found out that old people used the word _fie_ to mean disgust or outrage.

It didn't stop them from chanting it as if it was the funniest name in the world.

The girl hated it. She thrashed and threw a tantrum. She wanted them to stop— wanted anyone to stop them. She tried and tried, but her mangled throat rendered her speechless. Instead, the couple reprimanded her for getting angry.

Yet they still called her Fie.

She left that orphanage the day after.

What was she doing here? Where were her mom and dad? Where's home? Those thoughts whirled around her as she ran as fast as she could. From battlefield to battlefield in a war-torn hotspot of some country she didn't even know the name of— desperately searching for home. For family.

It was the day before Zephyr adopted her did she realize that 'home' was long gone. Abandoned, and razed to ashes.

The people that called her Filia was dead. There were no gravestones. Nothing was left. Her parents laid there, nameless and forgotten— even to her.

Forever.

_'Why should Filia not suffer that same fate?'_ she thought. Zephyr didn't care. The man who took her in didn't. He said the stupid name was cute.

And so, the weak little girl known as Fie Claussell was born.

That girl kept running— even now, through the dreadful forests away from home. Too weak and scared to cross the border.

"Dad… What should I do…?" I asked. Did I have the right to? I wasn't his daughter— Fie Claussell was.

A rustle caused me to jump in surprise. Reeling back, I couldn't fight a monster— didn't have the strength to. Searing stubs that were my legs told me to run.

I didn't need to, thankfully. A humanoid figure stepped out from the shadows. Feminine. The sparse glow of luminescent plants made it possible to see, albeit barely. The woman had long hair that reached her waist. She carried a weapon. A border patrol guard, maybe.

It was when her mouth opened did the warm blood leave my body. The woman shrieked out two words. Hearing it, my heart stopped. My throat chafed, and I could feel my stomach churn from bile. I said the person's name. One I knew far too intimately.

"FOUND YOU~."

"L-Laura…?"

Laura grinned, excited like mad. The moment I blinked, she had disappeared...

...just as a mighty greatsword swung towards me.

* * *

Fie ran away from her, all because of her and her stupid idealistic ways. The tears stung at her. Wiping them away with her sleeve, Laura forced a smile.

"I should go after her…" she said to herself. This was normal. Fie always ran away from her. She just needed to bring her back— like always. She commanded her legs to run too, but as if wooden stilts, they shook. "Damn it…"

Was that how she felt? Fie hated her? How could they face each other, knowing that? She knew her best friend lied about the most important things... so did that mean everything she knew was fake? The smiles, the arguments, the inconsequential foolery they did together.

None of it real?

"C'mon, Laura… Move…" she told herself again. She didn't budge.

Suppose Fie did lie and that, as harsh as it sounded, her confession was genuine, should she be angry? Furious at being lied to? Frustrated at being stabbed in the back all over again?

Should she forgive her, and pretend none of it ever happened? That seemed to be the easiest option.

Could she live with that cruel lie?

No.

"What a mess…" Victor said. Stroking his chin, he stared at the direction Fie had run off to. "I had known that she was hiding something, but I did not expect her to harbor such resent."

What?

"You _knew_ she hated me?"

Victor shook his head. "There is someone she loathes far more than you. She likes you, actually."

_Stop. Stop lying._ "...Who? Sigmund? Shirley?"

Another no. "It isn't my place to answer that question. You know that."

Who? Alisa? Emma? Millium? Gaius? Elliot? Machias? Jusis? Sara?

Rean?

Did Fie hate all of them?

"Regardless," Victor continued. He pointed to the twin gunswords discarded carelessly on the ground. Blood stained the chrome blades. Beside it was Fie's ARCUS. "It's dangerous to be alone in the woods without weapons or a means of communication."

What a great idea. "Father, Please, go to her!" Laura exclaimed with crudely masked expectations. "Lecture her. Teach her how to control it. You did so with Rean, remember? Surely you could do so again."

He answered her with a hearty laugh, amusement soothing his coarse lungs. "What use is a lecture from a swordsman without a sword?"

His fingers splayed out. Empty. Galland-Sharl rested not within the embosom of his grip, but on the sandy beach. Laura had taken it from him without asking.

"I-I'm sorry…" Retrieving the heirloom before it could be washed away by the lake, she thrust it towards him. He didn't take it. "...?"

"Keep it. It's yours."

"But…"

"You realize now what you must do, Laura," Victor said. Not just as a father to daughter, but as a master to student. "Take it and wield it proudly with your head held high. Use its blade to do what must be done."

"I…"

Galland-Sharl turned robustly in her hands. Lighter than any weapon she had held, it bore sturdy and dense steel the likes of which she had never experienced before. Its weight delicately balanced between the colossal blade and the silver hilt. Royal gold patterned its entirety, gleaming brightly in the rain. If she swung, Galland-Sharl would follow her every movement with deadly accuracy and precision, yet augment it with the ferocity of warriors from legends. Truly the work of a master craftsman.

She was worthy enough to wield it— its previous owner said so. The power of the great relic felt at ease with her. She held it tighter.

"Go. Bring back that wayward niece of mine. Drag her to Legram if that's what it takes. The people still have _plenty_ of requests for her when she comes home."

Laura nodded, the fire of her will burning profound in her eyes.

* * *

Jaeger instincts forced her to dodge. As she did, the ground she stood on erupted in a plume of lava. She smelled burning cloth— half of her scarf had been torn asunder. The greatsword vanished into darkness before striking again. Screaming as a slash cleaved at her waist, thin razor winds cut into her skin.

The blade uprooted a nearby tree. Smashing it into stumps, Laura hurled it as she fled, the explosive impact almost breaking her back in half. Fie dropped to the ground, barely able to move.

"Why are you running~?" Laura asked, her bitter smile masking the disdainful tone. "C' mon… let's play~."

Scratching the mud from her eyes, Fie crawled away from the voice. There was no mistaking it: she wanted to kill her. Laura wanted to kill her.

**"This is what you want, right? You hate me, I hate you… It's only fair if I kill you, right Fie?"**

Grasping at air, Fie couldn't see anything past the grime and rain. She felt a branch. As she pulled herself up, the nerves in her sore, immobile body shrieked in agony.

Footsteps lumbered towards her. She whimpered as it approached. "I don't hate you…"

"What? **Stop lying to yourself. You hated me. Always have."**

"No…"

A blunt swing battered her across the woods. Her body struck the cliffside. A rip suffused her shoulder. Partial dislocation. She fell into a shallow puddle, miraculously avoiding her skull slam against the rocks. It still hurt like hell.

"**Hurts, huh? You could hurt me ****just** **like this too. You want to, don't you? If you used all your power, you could kill me. Torture me. Make me beg for my life as you tear me limb from limb. Sounds nice, right?"**

"I don't— "

Her head snapped back, her chin nearly broke from the kick. She tasted blood as her teeth bit into her tongue. Slumped against the wall, a numbing pain shot up her thighs. More blood spilled into the greatsword as it stabbed her again and again. She saw Laura grinning maniacally, eyes shrouded in darkness by soaked, abyssal blue hair.

Breathless. Laura stomped her chest, ribs collapsing under the heel. What little reprieve Fie got, she spent coughing out blood. A vise grabbed her by the neck, and she was choking again.

"**Say it. Say that you hate me. Say that you want me dead."**

She couldn't say it. Couldn't say anything. Helpless. All she could do was cry.

"**See? You're WEAK. Too weak to do anything. Too weak to FIGHT."**

"I'm… sorry…"

**"Of course you are. This disaster was YOUR fault. Laura wanted to enjoy the festival. Duvalie exhausted herself so today would be perfect. Schera snuck away to have fun too. All that went down the drain because you wanted to be a **_**hero**_**."**

The pain. The pain. She cried from the nonstop pain.

**"But here you are, crying for someone to save you. For anyone to come to protect you. In return for what? Cowering in fear as you watch them die? You promised. How many times have you failed to protect those you care about?"**

Nails dug into her throat, piercing the veins. She knew. Fie knew. She begged Laura not to say it.

**"Crow died because you couldn't stop the Vermillion Knight from stabbing his heart. Millium died because she did the one thing you wish you could do. The man you loved grieved alone in chains because you couldn't save him from himself."**

"..."

"**Schera cried her heart out when she thought her beloved prince ****was lost** **to an explosion. Your best friend mourned for the only family she had left. It never would have happened if you hadn't doubted those explosives hidden in the Courageous. Nobody else noticed them except **_**you.**_"

She didn't care anymore. She stopped struggling. Her life was already forfeit. Laura spoke the truth.

**"Did you know how much pain Alisa went through when you stole her first love away from her? That's right: nothing. Nothing compared to the pain YOU suffered upon her in your jealous rage. I thought you wanted to protect her?"**

She wanted to kill her.

**"The troubles you caused for Class VII when they came to defend you. The humiliation Sara felt when she **_**begged**_ **the guild to forgive you. Did you think becoming an A-rank bracer would absolve you of ****ALL of** **that?"**

No. It wouldn't.

**"And yet you cling to the belief that you are strong. That you— nameless, alone and afraid, as both jaeger and bracer— are strong. Ridiculous."**

If she was stronger as either of them, then maybe…

**"Your dad would have been alive if it wasn't for you."**

The strangling stopped and Fie withered to her knees. Rain suffocated her as she clutched her throat and pleaded for air. It was as cold Gehenna itself.

Laura raised her sword overhead. She gave her a ruthless stare.

**"****Just** **die."**

And it would have been the noble Laura to do it for her.

A burden. A shame.

A tainting leech to the very end.

"I'm sorry… Laura…"

...

"...Laura?" a new voice spoke. It didn't resemble Laura's at all, yet it came from nearby.

Her eyes widened when she recognized who it was.

"No…" 'Laura' said. She stepped closer, just as a flash of lightning illuminated the night. Amber eyes turned an aquatic green. The blue ponytail loosened into wild scarlet-red locks. Her pink dress became a black leather jacket. The greatsword in her hand mutated into a fiendish chainsaw rifle.

She smiled. "It's me… _Shirley._"

Fie gasped. Her throat gurgled from the aching sore. Her heart raced. She couldn't move— her panic froze her on the spot. Testarossa glistened as its serrated teeth tapped her on the cheek.

"Use it," Shirley muttered, her face radiating a gleeful malice. "War Cry."

Her tongue had bled dry, petrified. Fie couldn't respond with anything but a pitiful 'no.'

An eyebrow cocked playfully. "Hmm~?" Stalking closer, Shirley lifted Testarossa high above them. Gears turned, and the saws whirred to life with a blazing red flare.

Its bitter steel edge slammed into the wall mere rege from her head. Fie yelped as the demonic armament shredded the rocks like brittle wood, buzzing through the storm.

"C' mon… use it," whispered the seductive voice. Shirley leaned in close as the hot breath licked her ears. _"I beg of you…"_

She wanted to scream. "No…"

"...Please?"

"...I can't..."

"..."

A fist demolished the rocks behind her. Dust flew everywhere as the very cliffside rumbled and pounded. Shirley silenced it with a screech. "WHY?!"

Fangs bared and the rage boiling in quivering eyes, Testarossa burst into infernal flames. "WHY WON'T YOU USE IT?"

"Because I'm…"

Weak.

Shirley roared.

A royal saber blocked Testarossa by the hilt. The impact blew the man's hood down, revealing an androgynous face fringed with blonde, princely hair. Dancing embers reflected off light-blue eyes. He thrust himself forward and a deft parry maneuvered the wicked rifle aside. A kick shoved Shirley off.

"She can't use it because she's not ready," Cedric said with a keen glare. He spared a glance at Fie, and mumbled one word:

"Flee."

Sniveling back the tears, she did as she was told…

And ran away.

* * *

"H-hey… what the hell, Prince?" Shirley asked. Fine silk tore apart as she grabbedd Cedric by the scruff of his pompous shirt. What was he doing, interrupting the fun she sorely missed? Still, she smiled at him, her patience growing thin. Her cuspids drew blood from the biting of her lips. "You said I could go wild, and— "

Cedric pulled her arm. In an instant, the world shifted. A swirling mass of orange teleported them to a nearby stream.

"Gh..."

She wanted to puke. It nauseated her— like vertigo from a speeding aerial cruiser. Head spinning, she slipped on the sinking mud. Her feet sploshed and splashed. Her vision stopped being a blur, and she realized she was alone.

"..."

The noise came out as grating scrapes, she panted heavily. She felt out of oxygen. The clean air was thin. She breathed out more than what she inhaled. The noise became louder. She trembled.

A hand tapped her shoulder. Cedric looked calm as he spoke. "Now is not the time— "

His face contorted in anguish.

A crushing pop. Like a whining weasel, the fingers in his hands twisted out of the joints. With a single tug, his entire arm dismembered from his body with a horrifyingly flesh-ripping tear. Testarossa fired up and the hellish sawblades mutilated him from the head down.

Without so much as a scream, Cedric Reise Arnor was no more.

— but there was no blood.

Shirley thought it funny. No matter how many times she's killed him, no blood bled from him, always. No dripping red. No rusty smell. No vile stench.

Only the wilderness.

The rain pelted her eyes as she watched the water rush the banks relentlessly in a deluge— an inundation? Flash flood? It looked destructive and wild. Nature's wrath.

She felt the same. A sanguine ogre. A calamity in human form. An Enforcer of darkness sowing chaos on to the world.

A monster.

She missed the blood. The pumping adrenaline when near death. She missed the terror on her victim's face when they would beg for mercy. C- didn't have that same expression. His blue eyes reflected nothing as she crushed half his head to the stone.

Still no blood. What madness. She laughed.

Holding his cold hand to her face, she smelled the roses. C- liked roses. An adorable trait he inherited from his step-brother. Once upon a time, the two of them frolicked in a garden, like two idiots in a bud. A jaeger forced to dance the waltz among the flowers. A former prince inviting said jaeger to nap beside him in a bed of roses. Shirley cringed for him, embarrassment a fleeting emotion for her. It was the comfiest bed she's ever laid on.

But she didn't smell the blood. It was sickening.

The other half of his face laid there. Hugging it close to hers, she kissed the lips without hesitation. Cold. She pushed her tongue inside and licked every corner of his mouth hoping for some kind of warmth.

She didn't taste the blood. It tasted of nothing. The kiss didn't tingle her as much as it should have.

Vomit shot up her throat.

Nothing? Why did killing him make her feel nothing? She's killed countless times before but it's been over a year since she felt anything from her kills. They were too weak. They couldn't give her fun. They didn't fight— they cowered in fear. She thought killing him would be satisfying. Gratifying, like a damning release.

He didn't cower like the rest of them.

Who was this guy? Blonde hair and blue eyes. His cheek blushed an adorable cutie. He had a precious smile— a shame she liked girls more.

What was his name, again?

She racked her brain trying to remember. Did it start with an A? An R? Why didn't she remember? She remembered him patting her head as she slept on his lap, tired and dazed from the day. She remembered him giving her ice cream on a bench under the scorching sun. She remembered him warming her with his coat even though she never needed it.

It hurt. The memories hurt. Her retching wouldn't stop. Her throat wanted to jump out. She couldn't force it down, the watery smell of the river made her even more nauseous.

Who was he? Why did it feel like he was important to her? Why did her heart ache just thinking about it?

She tasted the blood now- hers, along with her acidic effluvium. Faint, but she liked the smell. She needed more.

Grabbing a jagged rock nearby, she scraped it across her arm. The skin bruised white, undamaged. She scraped it harder. Then deeper. Then harder.

Who the hell was he? She wanted to know. Wanted to find out. Family? Hers? She couldn't remember. A brother? He looked like a girl so… sister? She'd always wanted one. Someone to worship her. A gullible piece of crap whom she could torment and tease as much as she liked. A wide-eyed piece of shit to whom she could teach all her special techniques and skills.

A person she wanted to protect.

The skin finally broke. Dragging the rock along the cut, she widened the gap between the flesh. It gushed blood. Red, fresh blood. She smothered her face in it, her nose drowning in the viscous liquid. It smelled wonderful. It tasted delicious.

"Guh— !"

She felt a sharp pain— in the same place where an ugly gash bled profusely. It was terrible— unbearable. She had a cut in her arm. The bleeding wouldn't stop. She fumbled about as the laceration made her want to puke again.

Her vision stopped seeing red. Her head spun upright. Her throat seared and her stomach retched. Lucidity unclouded her mind.

She remembered the boy's name.

"Ah…"

Cedric. She killed Cedric.

"Ahhhhhhhhh..."

She wanted to yell, but only silent tears flooded out. His body sat there, butchered by her vicious blade. Half of his skull crushed to paste, he had a look of pure terror that burned into her eyes.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

She killed him. Cedric was never coming back. She was alone.

She screamed.

And screamed…

...and screamed.

"Now is not the time," a voice said. The body on the ground dissolving into white mirage-like ash, Cedric approached her cautiously. "Wait until the time is right and I promise— "

"I. Can't. WAIT anymore, Cedric...!" Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Shirley pleaded in a cry of desperation. She gasped for air, loud against her ears.

A pair of arms wrapped around her tightly in an embrace. They felt real— not an illusion. They were warm.

So warm, she wondered how warm the blood inside felt. She wanted to know.

"I know…" Cedric said. More tears fell to her shoulder along with the rain. He wept them, unabashed to his undignified face. "I know… Fight its influence for just a few more days and I promise…"

He looked her in the eyes. Shirley grinned maniacally. She was still crying. "That's right… a few more days… then I will get to kill again. And again, and again, and again…"

A chuckle burst out of her as she gripped Cedric by the cheeks with both hands. She clawed into him, and he grimaced from the pain. It was beautiful.

"And the first one I'll kill… is _**you.**_"

Their hug became Death's caress. Spine almost snapped, Cedric thanked the Goddess that she restrained herself. He knew it would not last. They were running out of time.

"We will save you, Shirley. I promise…"

A mad laugh— Shirley's. Bloody and incessant, it echoed far in the desolate lands.

* * *

**CHAPTER XXII: Bloody Shirley**


	23. Chapter 23

**Exceed.**

* * *

**CHAPTER XXIII: Maelstrom**

* * *

_Click. Clack._

Laura breathed out a sigh of relief. "There you are…"

"..."

She collapsed right next to Fie, exhausted. If asked where they were now, she'd have no clue how to respond. Under a tree, probably nearer to Bareahard, well past midnight. Thankfully, the winter shower had moved on a couple of hours ago.

_Click. Clack_

"I thought I would have to come back in the morning," she said. "...but I guess those tracking lessons you taught us paid off well in the end."

It was a fond memory. A mini-field trip they had as a class, with both ex-jaeger instructors teaching them how to survive in the wilderness. Rean, Gaius, and Jusis were naturals— less so for the rest of them. It wasn't her fault Klaus wouldn't allow her to hunt for her own food.

"..."

_Click. Clack._

That was a half-truth. The darkness and rain made tracking difficult. It had only been pure luck that Laura saw a blinking light in the distance.

_Click. Clack._

The lighter continued to flicker on and off like a metronome. Its small flame reflected off Fie's blank eyes.

_Click. Clack._

Silence. Fie was a mess. Her scarf was shredded and her hair was tangled in black, muddy crusts. Bruises marred her downcast face. She lost her sneakers, and her arms and legs were hideously cut up. Her eyes puffed out red, long deprived of tears.

She looked miserable.

_Click. Clack._

Laura wanted to give something to cover her up, but she wasn't exactly in a pristine condition either. Her dress skirt had a massive tear on it and the top was ruined, to say the least. It was cold too because of the fabric.

_Click. Clack._

At least they were together now. Bareahard seemed to be closer. Maybe Jusis would be kind enough to let them stay the night— or early morning, rather.

"Let's go, Fie."

_Click._

…

_Click. Click. Click. _

There was no clack. No fire. The lighter was exhausted of its oil supply. It would be a trivial task to replenish it once they got back to town.

Fie threw it away.

"...Who are you?" she asked.

Who? "It's me, Laura."

"..."

"Here," Laura said, handing the girl her weapons and ARCUS.

Fie wouldn't take them. She stared at the ground, listless.

Laura offered her a gentle smile and a hand. Perhaps Fie was just tired from all the running. "Come, Fie. Home awaits us."

A subtle movement. Fie's eyes narrowed for an instant.

"What's the matter, Fie?"

Another twitch. The corners of her mouth grit into a snarl.

Was Fie hurt? Were her legs injured and she couldn't move? Her neck had red marks on it too, so maybe it hurt to speak. She couldn't cast healing arts either without her ARCUS.

"Hold on a moment, Fie. Let me tend to your— "

"...stop calling me that..."

"Pardon? Fie, if you can't speak it's okay. We can— "

"Shut. UP."

" — ?!"

"..."

Irritation. Laura felt irritated. It was rare for her to feel so vexed, but the fatigue added to her annoyance. Mastering her swordsmanship required wells of patience and discipline.

But this was shit. "...Very well. Let us go, _Sylphid_."

Fie nodded and finally accepted her belongings. She stood up slowly, leaning more on her right leg. Laura knew she wouldn't take kindly to support, so she let her limp like that, not even sparing a glance as the of them made their way through the woods.

…

A pair of footsteps ceased when they reached a clearing. The moon hung low, and the luminescent flora glittered in the surroundings. Laura turned to see Fie glaring at her.

"I'm not going back to Legram," Fie spat out.

"Where do you intend to go?"

"...Anywhere except here."

Laura raised a brow. "You have resolved yourself to run away?"

There was no hesitation in the answer. "Yes."

"And what of those you will leave behind?"

"I don't care."

"I assume, then, you wouldn't care if I took Rean for myself?" Laura asked.

"Go ahead."

"Even if it will break his heart?"

"As if you don't want that to happen."

Laura did. A year passed, and she had already moved on from her feelings for him— but the sense of longing never left. Rean could be hers— she only needed to save him from the heartbreak. Or never tell him at all.

"...Coward," Laura muttered.

"..."

"You were always a coward," she continued, indignance clear in her tone. "Ever since enrolling in the academy, you wanted nothing more than to run away— to go back to being what you thought you were: a cold-blooded killer. You didn't belong there, and yet you were afraid to leave on your simple desire to never be alone again."

Fie looked away.

"You fell in love," Laura said. "You fell in love with us, and you formed a new desire: to be with us. Like a family."

The memories came back in a crashing blur. "We thought you've grown up, but you showed your cowardice again when you chose to steal Rean in secrecy. You were afraid to fight for him, and that if you did, you were afraid you would hurt us all."

"So what?" Fie snapped back. "Not my fault he fell for it."

"Now, you wish to flee from everything. To save yourself from the guilt of watching us suffer, and seeing your family break apart once more."

"...You don't know how much that hurts, Laura. You never will."

Galland-Sharl shook in her grasp. "A coward can only turn their back from those that they fear. They are truly repulsive. Abhorrent. Words cannot describe how disappointed I am of you."

"..."

"If you want to run away, then I won't stop you. However..." Laura said. She held the great relic forward and took her stance. "By my blade, I _refuse_ to let you through until you have answered ALL of my questions."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will drag you back home where you belong, Fie!"

Fie growled. "You won't make me."

An expression, arrogant and provoking, crept up Laura's face. "I will. And if you want to stop me, you're going to have to kill me first."

Through the bloodlust, she shouted. "Use it, War Cry. Use all of your power! Prove to me that you have the strength to surpass me— the strength to fight for what you want!"

"FINE!"

Pure terror. From the lungs of an ogre, Fie roared.

Air thinned into miasma. The black wind swirled around them, plucking leaves from the branches as it enveloped the forest in an icy gale. The trees screamed in a cacophony.

Silver hair and a deathly-green scarf flittered. In an instant, she disappeared— just as the metallic screech of her gunswords struck down on Laura's blade. The force of the clash exploded in a surge of howling wind. It pushed Laura back, her foot desperately latching on the muddy ground. She fought with all her might to hold back the twin swords.

"Such power. Such ferocity," Laura said, gazing into the fiercely glowing green eyes. "Why do you oppose it? What is it you are so afraid of?"

"..._Me_."

Her footing almost lost, Laura jumped back.

"Do you know what it was like…" Fie yelled, "...living every day of your life alone, without anyone listening to you curse others behind their back for experiencing something they had every right to have?

"Do you know what it was like... to not have felt the warm love of a family, yet live in this cold, harsh world that enjoyed tormenting you and making you suffer?"

On instinct, Laura pushed her body to the side. A sharp gust of wind cut the stray strands of her hair. She parried the knife to her arm and blocked a bullet to the head.

"I was alone. I was afraid. I wanted to die without ever knowing why I was born in this miserable life in the first place. This world took everything from me, even when I had nothing. Do you know what it was like to run from all that, scared and hopeless because you were weak?!

"I wanted to become strong. I became a jaeger— I didn't want to become a jaeger, yet every day I fought and fought, crying myself to sleep from the pain and guilt of living a life I wished I never had!"

Breath rasping, Fie clawed at her eyes. Her voice cracked. "With every battle, I became stronger. With every kill, I became more capable of becoming strong. I could finally stop running away. I could finally be strong enough to experience that warmth only a family could provide.

"But I was wrong. I was wrong. I was stupid. I was an idiot. 'I've always wanted to find a family.' What a pathetic lie!"

She wiped the tears away on her scarf, yet they continued to flow down, unabated. "I've always HAD a family: Zephyr! Everything I ever wanted was right there all along!

"They loved me. I didn't love them back. Dad wanted a daughter. Xeno and Leo wanted a niece. I couldn't give it to them— only used them as tools to become strong. If I had given them the love they had always wanted, then maybe Dad would have never died at all!

"Zephyr disbanded because of me. Everything they loved was gone because of me. And when they brought Dad back, he chose death… _because of me._"

"Then you became part of Class VII," Laura said. Chips of wood and razor leaves flew around her. She stood her ground and ignored them cutting into her skin. "You thought we were weak. Too weak to survive." Dodging back, a heel slammed the ground where she stood. "We did— by protecting each other. We became a family, and you promised yourself you would become strong to protect us in return."

"But I didn't," Fie said, teeth bared like fangs. "I failed. I was weak again. I needed to get stronger, just so that my family will never leave me behind again."

Laura held Galland-Sharl to her side. "You became strong. Too strong."

Strong enough to hurt those she cared about.

"No matter how hard I try I couldn't protect anyone, I was useless. Despite that, I wanted to be loved. To be cared for in the family I had lost time and time again."

"So that's why."

Fie grinned. "That's right… I didn't want to protect you. I only wanted your love— your affection. I became a bracer because I wanted people to praise me. Wanted them to admire me. To stop making me feel alone."

Bit by bit, the corners of her mouth curled maniacally. "Rean never would have chosen me, I knew. He only saw me as someone to be protected. I loved that. I loved that he loved me for being weak. I wanted him for myself. I wanted him to protect me— to selflessly shower me with love until I grew sick of it. I wanted him so badly that I lied and cheated because I was too scared to fight for him. And, like the idiot he was, he chose me…!"

"You wanted him to choose someone else," Laura said.

"It was hard, you know? Having that fake smile on my face. I wanted to be with Dad. Wanted nothing more than to fight by his side again, and to finally show him how much a daughter I could be to him. By sheer luck, I ended up on the wrong side of the war, pretending that everything was fine. Pretending to be strong as I watched Dad die again, right before my eyes...

"I was a leech. Sat on her laurels feasting on the goodwill of those around her, giving nothing in return— leaving when all blood was sucked out of them to find a new one to devour. I wanted everything. I wanted more."

Esmelas marks lit up like flares. The wind raged harsher, stronger, turning the air into a heavy lead. It was difficult to breathe. Laura readied her sword.

"Then… there's _you,_" Fie said, her scowl as chilling as her tone. "Laura the brave, Laura the bold. Everybody loves Laura. She's strong. She'll protect you. She's selfless. She's a paragon. She has everything: a good family, an awesome childhood, and all the money in the world. She didn't even have to work for it— she was born into it. She can save everyone…"

Laura closed her eyes.

"_Everyone_. So tell me: why the _fuck_ did my dad have to die but not yours?"

She couldn't answer.

A chuckle. Fie gazed at her, scornful and pure with contempt. "Here's a thought: if I kill you, wouldn't that mean I get to take _everything_ you have? _Everything_ I ever wanted?"

All the love, all the affection, living as the daughter of a noble man and surrounded by people that relied on her— far, far away from the cruel life as an orphan and mercenary. Free from the suffering and the agonizing pain.

Laura shouted. "GO AHEAD AND TRY!"

Fie laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.

"THEN DIE!"

A weight dropped on her wrists. Galland-Sharl tilted. Fie had jumped on its blade and slammed a knee to her nose, breaking it.

Laura staggered to block the four pairs of gunswords swinging at her. A foot dug into her back, and a flurry of slashes tore at her limbs. Superficial, but the screaming flesh wounds distracted her. Her vision blacked out three times from having her head kicked by the shadow clones.

She saw the glint of frenzied eyes and narrowly ducked a swipe to her neck. It severed the ribbon in her hair. Chrome blades plunged towards her back.

Managing to break free, Laura raised Galland-Sharl. Its broad width blocked strike after forceful strike. It came in a rampaging stampede, steel drumming against steel. The sparks blinded her, but she stood her ground. The blows struck wilder, faster. Inhumanely fast like nanoseconds on a clock. It doubled. Then tripled. Four times as intense as the last. It wouldn't stop. Again and again, steel clanged. Again and again, her grip faltered. It kept coming. An unrelenting maelstrom, fueled by rage.

Galland-Sharl flew from her grasp.

Her head clobbered to the ground, then the rocky cliffs. Her cheeks scraped on the rough crags, blood smearing all over it. Her ears rang from the constant pounding of her skull to solid stone.

Weightless and in the air, her ribs cracked as she was smashed and thrown around like a ragdoll. Her face dragged through the mud and her shoulder struck the trees, axing the trunks down and piercing splinters into her skin. Her leg was pulled, and a fist struck her chin. Orbal bullets pounded her chest, the molten lava burning her dress.

A hand seized her right arm. In a crackling instant, the bones bent violently out of their joints. Laura screamed, the crippling surge overwhelming the rest of her senses. Her back slammed against a wall.

Painfully, she got up. Her head throbbed. She could barely see; the veins in her eyes were crying blood. Despite that, she saw clear as day Fie standing there in ecstatic malevolence. She cackled incessantly.

_No…_

"I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you…" Fie panted, over and over. Silver gale circled her blades, forming into a serrated edge dripping with malice. Brandishing it, she flashed a demonic smile.

_Don't…!_

Through the numbness of her arm, Laura spread them wide, her hair flowing loosely in the cyclone. She closed her eyes one last time.

"DIE!"

_STOOOOOOOOOOOOP!_

A sonic explosion blasted against the tornado. Blades of wind howled, and the storm dispersed, leaving only the light shower of water. The night fell silent.

…

A gunsword tapped on her neck. Laura glanced at the reflection off its surface. It pricked a tiny sliver of her skin, blood flowing down the blade.

Fie pulled her sword back. Her shoulders slumped, her lips forming a frown. Silver hair covered her eyes. Without a word, she turned around and walked away.

Laura grabbed her by the hand. "Fie…"

"..."

"I don't claim to understand everything you have said— everything you have felt," Laura said slowly. "But, I feel like I've gotten to know you, even more now."

She smiled, low and forgiving. Laura chose her next words carefully, cherishing every last moment of the silence. It may be the last ones she'd ever say to her best friend.

"Thank you for telling me, Fie. Thank you for everything. If you still wish to run… then I shall keep my word."

She let go.

"Goodbye, Fie…"

They both stood there, motionless. A drop of water slid down Laura's hair and shattered to the ground.

She took a step back and made to depart.

"Why?" Fie asked. "Why didn't you run?"

"Because I promised I would never leave you alone."

"I could've killed you..."

Laura shrugged. "I know."

Fie looked straight into her eyes, her voice monotonous. "That's fine? This isn't a game, Laura— if you died, you're never coming back. I really, really would have killed you…"

"I know, but…" Laura said. A smug smirk pursed her lips. "I also knew that you wouldn't."

"How?!"

"You told me," she answered truthfully.

Fie stared in disbelief. "How would I even… Ah..."

"Have you realized it yet?"

Looking down, a thin line hovered from their waist pockets. It glowed an ethereal pink, then yellow.

"...Your combat link," Laura said, flipping the device open with her usable hand. "You didn't bother to turn it off."

...

Fie was stunned into silence. Their ARCUS' resonated with a low hum. Even now, Laura read her thoughts, most of which were blank and utterly befuddled.

A giggle. Fie giggled. Not abrasive or insane, but like music to her ears. It bounced off the trees, and the leaves rustled in harmony, along with the pitter-patter of early morning dew. Laura smiled wider.

The laughter soon turned into sobs. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Fie lost the strength to stand. Laura caught her in her arm, and as if coddling a child, she hugged her close. Her best friend cried, louder and louder. She let it be.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be loved for little in return," Laura whispered. Gently, she stroked Fie's tangled hair. "In fact, you indulge us with it more often than we do."

She caressed her somber cheeks. They bled again, the strain from crying opening the wounds. "You, more than anyone, are ashamed that you couldn't do more for us, yet never once did you demand us for the same. Your love for us is far stronger than anyone else's. Pure and unconditional; we could not ask for anything more.

"Everyone is self-serving to a fault," she said. "That is why I want to ask of you my own selfish request."

Laura kissed her brow, then touched their foreheads together. She didn't need her voice. Only her feelings.

Her ARCUS blinked solemnly.

_Please continue to love us as you have, Fie. Give us all your heart, for we could no longer bear to live without it. It is because we — I — love you so much. _

Fie hugged her back tightly. Nodding through the tears, she bawled. "I will! I will! I promise, Laura!"

"Thank you."

With a relaxed smile, Laura patted her head again.

"Let's go home, Fie."


	24. Chapter 24

Breeze flicked hair to her nose. Her face scrunched up at the irritation. Slowly, Laura opened her eyes, and she was greeted by the light-purple ceiling of her room. The curtain from the open window swayed, letting in the fresh sunbeams of afternoon. She blinked once. Then twice. Sleep won over, and her eyelids fell shut.

"Five more minutes…" Laura mumbled incoherently. To no one in particular.

That proved to be wrong, however. Something moved on top of her. The shape felt like a person, catty and lithe. Silky follicles tickled her cheek, pleasuring her senses with a flowery smell, bobbing up and down with the wind. It tasted of hair. The head it belonged to shook in slumber. Bringing a hand up to the neck, she heard a giggle. Definitely a person.

Laura giggled too. She slid her fingers seductively down the person's back. It was smooth and delicate to the touch. Warm. She pinched the waist, and they shuddered in delight.

A tender hand rested on her chest. Sucking more on the fragrant hair, she fondled supple cheeks. In response, a finger glided to her collar. Laura pouted. No matter— the pleasure can wait. The person nudged closer and prodded an elbow to her ribs.

Pain coursed through Laura's body.

Pain. Pain. So much pain. Her eyes shot open. She tried to remove the elbow crushing her with her other hand.

More pain. She couldn't move her right arm. It felt spiny, broken, and limp— like a whip made of bones. Wiggling under the weight, she hoped for a little more leeway to be able to move.

Even more pain. Laura grimaced. Like violin strings being plucked one by one, her ribcage crackled, barely healed. Her head plopped back to her pillow. Underneath her blanket, Fie hugged her tighter in a death grip.

Silver hair barbed her face innocently. Laura glared. She couldn't move. Moving meant pain, but not moving brought pain too, if Fie so much as yawned. Her body just felt so horribly sore. She could say the healing arts were effective in that she didn't feel like dying— but she wanted to scream at the doctors because, Goddess above, Fie was _still trying to kill her._

The door to her room swung open, and a blonde maid walked in carrying powdery white bedsheets. She gasped.

"Oh, Lady Laura! You're awake!" Prana exclaimed.

"Good morn— err, afternoon, Prana," Laura said, smiling at the maid.

"Pardon me." Hurriedly, Prana stuffed the bedsheets into the drawers. "How are you feeling, Lady Laura? Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked with a bow.

"None at the moment," Laura half-lied. She wished for nothing more than Fie to NOT hug her to death.

"Please excuse me then, Lady Laura. I must inform Sir Klaus and your father straight away," Prana said in a hurry.

"You are excused." More pain. Her lungs ached from having to talk.

Alone again, Laura tried to break free from the statue currently squashing her torso. It proved unsuccessful, given that she was an arm down. "Wake up, Fie— !"

Fie didn't budge.

Never before had Laura felt so weak in her life.

A knock came from the door. With a dignified poise, Klaus bowed his head as he entered the room. "It is so good to see you awake, Lady Laura," he said.

Said lady stopped her vain attempts at freedom and silently accepted another crackle of her ribs. Laura's smile wavered. "Have I been asleep long, Klaus?"

"Quite long indeed, my Lady. You slept through the majority of the festival!"

Laura sighed. She was afraid of that. Not much she could do now except to make do with what was left. Thank goodness the festival continued as planned even after the whole fiasco.

"I am pleased to tell you, however, that the RMP have apprehended those responsible and have taken them into custody," Klaus said, dispelling her suspicions.

"What of those injured?"

"Taken care of only by the best medical staff. You need not worry about them, my Lady."

_Worry about yourself more_, her mind opined— just as a head leaned on her broken arm.

"I should also inform you that Master Jusis wishes to have a word with you once you have recovered enough stamina," Klaus added.

"Ah..."

Right. Last night's events slowly faded back into her memory. She owed Jusis an explanation as to why both she and Fie were wounded, exhausted and lost in the woods. He had been kind enough to fetch them without question, but the ride back was… tense, to say the least.

"I shall give him a call when I am able to. Thank you, Klaus."

"It is my pleasure. Shall I get you your clothes, my Lady?"

Clothes?

A chilling wind swept up her back. It blew in from the open window, and Laura noticed then that she was not dressed in fabric, but merely mummy-wrapped in bandages. She had barely gotten her blush under control when the door to her room crashed open.

A peanut-haired maid heaved as she barrelled inside. "LADY LAURA! THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE OKAY!"

Laura sweatdropped. Self-conscious about her bare self, she hid inside her blankets. "Y-yes I am, Chloe. I apologize for the worry I've caused…"

The maid gasped. "NO. You don't need to apologize at all, my Lady! If anything we should be the one to— "

"Let me stop you right there," Laura interrupted, the corners of her mouth twitching in exasperation. If she let it be, there would be no end to Chloe's ramblings. Kind of like how the crippling pain of her broken arm wouldn't cease its nagging at having a bracer-sized weight perched atop of it. "This was entirely of my own volition. You shouldn't feel guilty about it at all, Chloe."

Restrained tears burst from the young maid's face. "LADY LAURA!"

"N-no need to pull on the blankets— !"

The situation was bad, Laura thought. In every possible way.

But then it got worse. Much worse.

Fie yawned and sat up, no doubt from the disturbance of the bed. "Keep it down, Laura. My head hurts…" she said before glomping her face into Laura's chest. She wasn't properly dressed either, her top consisting mostly of white gauze.

Nevermind the pain, Laura's cheeks gushed red.

"Wha-Wha-Wha— "

"Now now, Chloe… This isn't what you think," Laura said to try and defuse the situation. What did the self-proclaimed Laura fan-club member number one think the current situation, she could only wonder. Probably nothing good. Nor decent.

Fie's hand groped her breast. Blushing fiercer, Laura gulped.

Chloe shrieked. She stormed out of the room and ran down the stairs— screaming all the while. The manor door slammed shut. Klaus nodded and chased after the hysterical maid.

Scherazard, Victor, and Duvalie peeked inside the room.

...

_Kill me now,_ Laura pleaded.

Duvalie shook her head, eyes glazed with utter disapproval. "Truly, you bring nothing but dishonor to the Sandlot name," she scoffed before walking away.

Stroking the hairs on his chin, Victor eyed his daughter in her candid position. "Is this the reason why you would prefer to turn down the marriage?" he asked, not knowing how to respond. He relayed what he had learned in the not-so-distant past. "Suffice to say I am… not versed in matters such as this. If this is what you want, however, then I will abide by it."

He rapped a fist to his chest innocently. "You have my word, Laura."

Scherazard hammered the nail in the coffin via a leering grin. With a wink, she led the confused Victor out of the room for what Laura could guess meant some privacy.

Laura gawked as the door swung closed, aghast.

A titter came from underneath her sheets.

"Four strikes in a row. Guess we're even, Laura~." Fie said.

"If you were awake this whole time, you could've at least told them we didn't— "

Fie snored.

"...And, you're back to sleep. Of course." Laura sighed.

* * *

Scars were nice— the cool ones, not the ugly ones. Most jaegers had a couple or so. Fie did, as well: on her chest from way back when. The new one on her left cheek rounded that number to two. It looked gruff, badass, and some other words she can't be bothered to look up in the dictionary. Scars were cool.

Her perfect reflection gazed at her from the surface of Lake Ebel. In the clean blue waters, stars from the night sky twinkled like shining diamonds. Fie pouted. "You think I should get a new scarf or Nah?"

"Why would you choose to hang on to derelict one such as that?" Duvalie asked, scrutinizing the bloodsoaked fabric wrapped around her neck. The tips were burned and frayed, and it would be hell to wash off the stains.

"Guess I'm keeping it then," Fie answered, not missing a beat.

Duvalie stared incredulously. "Really?"

Fie smirked. "What, you offended?"

"..."

"..."

Smirk turning into a frown, Fie glared.

"Now, now," Laura interrupted with a laugh. Her right arm thoroughly cast in a sling, she waved her left in a placating gesture. "Let's be civil. No fighting."

"What are those?" Fie asked. In her hand was a candle the length of a small knife that Laura had given to all the people in the pier. Some had already placed their candles in the shrine erected near the lake. They bowed their heads and held their hands in prayer as the wispy smoke undulated in the evening air.

"As part of our new tradition for the festival," Laura answered, "the people of Legram holds a candlelit ceremony in remembrance to those that have departed for the afterlife. Candles have long been held as a symbol of a guiding light for the spirits that still inhabit this plane."

Duvalie placed hers at the foot of the Eisenritter shrine. With a flick of a match, the candle flickered with a gentle flame. She knelt down and bowed her head at the statue of Lianne Sandlot. The perfect image of a knight devoted to her master… but also of a long-time friend grieving the loss of her loved one.

Smiling softly, Fie left her alone. "Where's Schera?" she asked.

"Her Highness wanted to be alone for the duration of the ceremony," Laura said, an apologetic expression on her face. "I apologize that I do not know of her location currently."

"That's fine," Fie said after a pause. She looked away.

Laura didn't buy it. "Fie."

"I… I just wanted to give her my thanks. Without her, I dunno what sort of panic would have happened. That's all."

Not to mention that it was a panic she caused, albeit indirectly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fie. Those jaegers would have come regardless of your involvement or not. " Laura said. "I, in particular, am glad to have had you around," she added with a smile.

Fie tried to smile back, but it cracked faster than it would have in the past. _It's still my fault…_

Was it, really? She didn't know. She didn't want to know. What if it was? Imagining that hypothetical scenario where none of it ever happened, where her friends could have enjoyed the festival worry-free… Would it have been better? And what if it wasn't? What if Laura got hurt, and Schera did get captured for Aidios knows who?

Was she strong enough to take her back?

To have stayed and been a burden to everyone's peace, like a curse— or to have stayed far away and been unable to rescue those that needed it. Which was worse?

A hand grabbed hers. "Shall we go place our candles, Fie?" Laura asked.

Fie nodded.

Like a cradle of glowing orbs, candles illuminated the pier, the smoke scenting the mist with a waxy aroma. The people gathered around chanted their prayers to the Goddess. Others wept in suppressed grief. Fie placed her candle next to Duvalie's, barely squeezing it in the free space.

"Match…" She rummaged her pockets for something to light the wicks.

"No need for that," Laura said.

"Hm…?"

Something glinted an orange light in Laura's hand. It was small and a metallic silver. "I believe this is yours."

A lighter.

Fie gasped. She thought she had lost it forever. "H-how?"

Instead of an answer, Laura cocked her head towards the woman kneeling beside them. Duvalie huffed and resumed her vigil.

"...Thank you," Fie said, smile beaming sincerely. She clicked the switch open. Refilled of its oil, a small flame flickered on, familiar and warming. It lit both of hers and Laura's candles, releasing a new scent that captivated her lungs. Clasping the lighter tightly, she prayed.

...

A bell chimed in the distance.

* * *

The rustic smell of the chlorophyll caused her eyes to flutter. Fie found herself not in front of a candlelit lake, but back in the wilderness. Dark. Cold rain showered from above.

"Where…?"

A gunshot.

Then, a quiet whimper.

_That's— _

Before she could finish her thought, Fie sprinted towards the noise. She drew closer, and she saw them. Heard them. The laughter, the snorting and the smug prattling of men. Their faces were covered in bug-like masks. The black armor they wore, Fie recognized, were characteristic of a jaeger. They sniggered and chortled, and slapped their thighs in levity— like disgusting pigs huddled in a circle.

In the middle of that… was a tiny silver-haired girl.

Her cheeks were swollen from being kicked over and over. Blood flowed down from her chest. She had been shot. She was dying.

And all she could do was cry.

Fie watched in silence, a hand cupped over the scar on her left breast— the same place where the bullet tore a hole into her heart.

_A memory?_ She was sure. The laughing voices were the same as those in her nightmares. That was enough.

The girl stared at the sky with sunken eyes, counting the seconds until the pain would stop. It never did stop, but the girl pleaded that it will. The heavy rain battered her face. She had stopped crying. She was going to die and she didn't know why. A girl marked for death. A curse. A burden. There was no helping her. Even when the Goddess spared her, she only brought suffering to those around her. Destined to be alone her entire life.

Fie tried to turn away… but couldn't.

A clap of thunder.

Then, a hail of bullets.

The jaegers dropped like flies. Another flinched, just before his head exploded from a sniper shot. Their leader screamed as something impaled him from the back. It hoisted him up. The blade-like spear gored through his abdomen. Powerful orbal blasts from its muzzle blew his whole body apart.

Fie gaped. In seconds, the Grim Reaper that haunted the girl was slain. Three figures approached, tall and dressed in black coats. Their arms holstered massive blade rifles. Dark shades hid their affronted faces. A behemoth of a man nodded to the leaner one. Their leader, wielding the spear-rifle, shook his head.

Zephyr's emblem adorned their chests.

"Bastards," Rutger Claussell said under his breath.

A medic ran over to the girl. Fie didn't recognize who, but the time it took for her to think, he had already extracted the bullet from the girl's chest. His orbment glowed, and the healing arts tended to her bruises. Rutger cradled her in his arms.

"She's stable now, boss," the medic said, wrapping a gauze over the girl's bleeding leg.

Rutger sighed in relief.

Xeno spat at the corpses of the jaegers surrounding them. "Damn thirsty glory hounds. Orders were to burn the houses down, NOT freakin' kill innocent children."

"Maybe they thought it would send a better message," Leo surmised. "No easier way to cow rebellious villagers than to have the threat of death hanging over their heads."

"They really give us jaegers a bad name, huh?" Xeno said, being the first to take off his sunglasses. His eyes rested on the little girl. "Sucks for the kid's parents, though."

Leo knelt down and held the girl's hand in his. "Nothing we can do about that now. How is she, boss?"

"She'll live."

The girl moaned. Her lips parted, and her eyelids struggled to open. Tears spilled out instead. She tried to speak.

"Shhh… It's okay now," Rutger whispered, holding the girl's other hand. He smiled gently, despite his rough visage.

The girl nodded. She still couldn't open her eyes.

"What's your name, little one?" he asked.

"Fi—" the girl sputtered out. The words were rasped, evidently from her damaged throat. She couldn't say the second syllable. Arts could only do so much to heal the body. "Fiii— …!"

"Filia," Fie said.

Rutger tilted his head. "Fi?"

Xeno leaned on his blade rifle. "You reckon it starts with an F or a P?"

"I think it's 'Fee,'" Leo said, arms crossed in thought.

"As in... 'contract fee?'"

"Hmm… other alternatives could be 'Phi,' like pie, or 'Fie' meaning outrage or disapproval."

"Ain't it a bit cruel to name your kid that?"

"Possibly," Leo smirked, a rare sight contrasting his stoic appearance. "Although you're one to talk, _Xeno_."

"So are you, _Leonidas,_" Xeno bantered back, almost teasingly.

Rutger glared. "Why don't you two make yourselves useful and help out. Leo, heat up some water back at camp. Xeno, we're in unfamiliar territory so go scout the perimeter for any hostiles."

"Ja!" the two men saluted before scurrying off. With silent footsteps, they faded into the night.

Brushing the hair off the girl's face, Rutger caressed her cheeks. She murmured like a baby in his arms. She held his hand tighter, her breaths muted but stable. She had stopped crying.

Rutger smiled again. "Fie, huh?"

The world dissolved into mist.

…

Finding her bearings, Fie found herself on the porch of a cottage. The raining had ceased, replaced by the buzzing of cicadas. A small lamp swung over the entrance, shining a light over her and the box at the front steps. She chuckled in disbelief at what she saw inside.

Huddled there, like a broken toy or even a stray cat, was the tiny girl. The note next to her read only three letters.

'Fie.'

"You sure we should just leave her here?" A bear-like man asked. Garcia flicked ash from his cigar. "I mean, she could come with us. Adopt her. We sure won't mind."

Rutger looked fondly at the girl, homeless, yet blissfully asleep. "The battlefield is no place for a girl like her. She should stay far, far away from it. From us."

"Have _you_ ever thought about leaving that behind? You know… settle down and have a kid of your own?" Garcia asked.

"I'm different," Rutger answered. "Here, the kid will get to grow up right. It isn't the best place for her, but she'll get a healthy upbringing. One day, she'll turn into a strong, wonderful, and beautiful woman."

His lighter clicked open. With a heavy breath, Rutger savored the flavor of his own cigar. "I can't have that anymore. Never will. It isn't right for me to force that kind of life onto the kid. She'll be happier this way. I know it."

He looked up towards the sky and exhaled smoke. "I just hope this is the best thing I can do for her."

Fie followed his gaze and saw a rusted sign, barely legible in the darkness. During her stay here, she only remembered reading it once in passing — before she left the place for good. Still, it brought a weird sense of longing in her heart.

This orphanage could have been her home. She said the name aloud, hoping to instill it into her memory. It might still be standing somewhere. She could pay it a visit then.

"Mercia Orphanage."

The world shifted again.

...

This time, she was in the ruins of a village. An all-too-familiar scene; Fie's seen hundreds of those now. Roads caked in ash and char. Overgrowth dominated whatever structures that remained. Nobody was around— except for the ghosts of those that once lived here, clamoring against the injustice brought upon them by the corrupt few.

Among them were her parents.

Sat there, the little girl stared blankly into space, without a shred of emotion. Alone. She did not even care to turn around when a pair of footsteps approached her.

Rutger had a mournful expression— another rarity considering his chipperness. He crouched down and patted the girl's head. "What's your name?" he asked.

Only then did she look at him. Panic flashed in the girl's eyes before despair drowned it aside. She could speak now, it was only a matter of finding the right answer. Her thoughts clung to that one name she loved. She threw those thoughts away. Her heart heavy with grief, she stopped caring anymore. 'Filia' was dead. Died a long time ago.

"Fie," she answered.

Rutger smiled. He picked the girl up, and embraced her. Confusion grew on her face as he did, but no tears came out.

Fie watched them from afar. The picture-perfect image of a father and daughter.

Her eyes never left her younger self. "...Welcome to the family, Fie."

The memory faded into darkness.

...

Fie found herself back in the pier. Around her, the people of Legram sniffled as they prayed for their departed loved ones, the fragrance of scented candles thick in the air. Mist enveloped the entire town and shrouded Lohengrin Castle in the distance. The moon shone brightly amidst the sea of twinkling stars and the glimmering lake.

Laura tapped her on the shoulder. "What's the matter, Fie?" she asked, worry clear in her voice.

Fie didn't answer. Instead, she ran out of the pier, ignoring Laura's bewildered shouts to get her to stop.

Memories flooded her thoughts as she ran. Rutger was a moron. A goof— something she blamed him a lot for, considering she inherited some of that goofiness. He was stoic too, but only when he wanted to. A pout and some begging from her was all it took for him to completely drop that facade.

He picked her clothes, most of which she ripped apart so she could move in them more freely. He bought her plushies— they made for great hidden bombs. He combed her messy hair, but she would ruffle it back because she thought long, straight hair didn't suit her. He called her affectionate names. She ignored them all because it embarrassed her. He loved games a lot, so sometimes he would force her to play with him because he was bored.

He scolded her when she scraped a knee from learning how to wield a weapon that was too big for her. He made a scary face when she asked if she could smoke a cigar. He stopped her from watching Zephyr's fights because he thought it would be too dangerous for her, even though the experience would be greatly to her benefit. He shooed her out of important meetings because he didn't want her involved in the shady dealings of her family.

He never supported her becoming a jaeger. Never did he call her by her real name. He didn't know. She hated him for that. She hated him. Hated him so much.

Yet...

She ran. Ran and ran until her feet skidded on the sandy beach. Fie scowled at the coastline— empty.

Locking her sights on the horizon, she clenched Rutger's lighter in her hands...

...And threw it far into the lake.

"Hey, Dad!" she shouted. "I still really, really, _really_ hate that name!"

Laura strolled up beside her, a silent beam on her face.

"But still…" With a deep breath, Fie shouted louder, hoping that somewhere, wherever his spirit was, Rutger would hear it.

He wasn't the perfect dad, but he was hers. Only hers.

He never once regretted becoming her dad.

"THANK YOU FOR GIVING IT TO ME!"

Fie collapsed to her knees. The sand caught the tears as they welled up from her eyes. "Thank you…"

Laura rested Fie's head on her shoulder. Her hand stroked silver hair, comforting and gentle, yet proud.

Giggling from the bottom of her heart, Fie smiled widely. "I love you, Dad…"

* * *

The blue night was painted orange with the dozens of candles illuminating the distant pier. Luciola pulled up her cowl and stared at the townspeople huddled together in vigil. Hers was a simple spell; it allowed a person to peer into their memories for but the briefest of moments, no matter how happy or sad it is. She felt no remorse doing it— she believed that those who have suffered loss deserves the right for closure in their lives.

She didn't, though. She was too far gone for that.

The device in her hand shone in the moonlight, it's dark coloration almost blending with the ground. A black orbment they called a Gospel. A memento belonging to the Steel Maiden for her deceased pupil.

The jaegers after it were told that the artifact supposedly fetched a wealthy sum on the black market— a wholesome lie fabricated by the society. Without the Aureole empowering it, the Gospel was merely a toy. Luciola hid it inside her robe. Better to keep it away from the public's eye instead of being part of a museum display.

The Gospel had other uses, as she found out— but it was neither the time nor the place. Not yet.

A familiar voice spoke from behind her.

"Rumor has it that if you pray hard enough during the winter festival's end, the spirits of your long lost loved ones would come to visit you— and like a bewitching dream, you can live out a memory of them as if you were right there, feeling their warmth once more."

Scherazard shook her head. "No wonder so many people visit this backwater town at this time of year. You really are a natural entertainer, Luci."

Luciola didn't respond. She didn't even spare a glance.

"It's nice, what you did today. Last year too," Scherazard said, placing a candle on the ground. Engraved on it was a name that at one time belonged to them both.

Harvey.

"Do yourself a favor," she added, lighting the candle and joining her hands in prayer. "Conjure up an illusion of him. Have him say he loves you or something. I dunno."

Ridiculous.

"Guess that leaves a bad taste, huh?"

Without another word, Luciola walked away. A bell chimed, and her form faded from existence.

From where she stood, a pile of books materialized from thin air, along with a slip of paper. Shrugging, Scherazard picked up the note, curious.

An amused grin came up her lips.

"'Attached is the bill for an order of five explicit novels and a bookmark, addressed to Princess Scherazard Harvey Arnor.' Good one, Luci."

No reason to reject it, she thought. Grabbing the first book atop the pile, Scherazard greedily turned to page one.

* * *

Overlooking both the lake and the pier, Victor leaned on the balcony of Arseid Manor. He coughed lightly and brushed off the burning sensation in his throat and lungs. His attention was focused on the pair of girls hugging on the beach. Laura held her best friend tight while offering her shoulder as support. He smiled proudly.

"She really is a good girl, huh?" Sigmund asked, the floorboards creaking from his jaunty gait as he leaned back on the railings.

"If you're referring to Fie then yes, I would agree," Victor said. He was proud of his surrogate niece too, though he wondered if he really should keep calling her that. Fie cried— yet even at a distance, he could see her radiant smile. "Do you have faith in her now?".

"Faith and jaegers don't really mix," Sigmund said, unhesitatingly. He laughed afterward. "But, I am betting mira that she'd be able to bring my beloved daughter back."

"As their fathers, we have the duty to merely guide them from the shadows, and support whatever it is they choose to do in life."

"Yeah." Sigmund nodded, his eyes set on Laura. "Your daughter is quite the firebrand too."

"... Just like Alexis."

With those words, the friendly atmosphere dissipated.

Sigmund frowned. "You want to talk business, then?"

Victor knew he shouldn't, but there were no better options left. He fished out a small locket from his jacket. Inside it was a picture of a young Laura being hugged by a woman with brown hair. She was neither tall nor well-endowed, and her limbs were thin as if to perfectly capture her frailty.

She wasn't, however. Her strength far surpassed his. Victor had been a lucky man that she accepted his hand in marriage. From the picture, she gleamed at him with sapphire eyes. A similar pendant was wrapped around her neck.

He didn't have a choice. He wanted his family to be whole again, too— for the sake of his daughter.

"How much would it cost… for you to track her down?"

* * *

**_Act I - fie _**

**_\- END -_**

* * *

A great calamity, a collapse of civilization

Thy Goddess has forsaken us, an impetuous ruin brought by man's nature

Seven gifts she bestowed, two forged into one

Brandishers of steel, witches of omen

I have learned from both, toiling away to pursue their crafts

Wings of light had hidden from men, but society lives on, so I walk

From the spiraling lands of darkness, I have come home

To lead thy people, thy brothers, once again to peace

A land blessed with trust, unflinching and steadfast

To support one another, to fight beside bosom comrades

Tis' mine destiny to be fulfilled, given by irony

Aureole, Aureole, give thy strength, Aureole!

* * *

**ACT 1 DONE! Yes, sorry, this story is far from over. Have a long A/N too.**

**First of all, yes, I added Luci just for that one scene. The rest happened by circumstance. If it wasn't clear, she was the one responsible for the jaegers leaving the museum. They were tricked into believing they had captured Schera. (I apologize).**

**Second, I felt that Fie would still be in grief after Rutger's second death. The events here transpired because of her immense guilt and self-loathing from thinking that she's a burden to her loved ones. Same as Rean's. It's part of her character since Cold Steel 1. (Which is why I ship them HARD)**

**Lastly, the next arc will come soon, but don't expect much. Saying it right now, the next part will be a return to light-hearted form but will contain filler. How and what it is, you'll see. **

**Don't worry though. The heavy action and story will take place elsewhere— in a different fic entirely. **

**If you haven't read it, On Heaven's Wings will officially start right after CS3 comes out. Got your pre-loads and PS4 controllers ready?**

**Anyway, that's all. Fie/Filia will return definitely. This time also on AO3, if you prefer using that.**

**Reviews, favs and follows, as well as EVERY previous ones I received, are appreciated. The support means so much for me.**

**See ya.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Change**

* * *

**Re:** FIE CLAUSSELL

**From:** REAN SCHWARZER

**Subject:** How are you?

Hey, Fie. I know this probably isn't the best time, but I just wanted to ask: Are you alright? My calls wouldn't go through, so I thought something might have happened.

If you are, please tell me, okay?

I love you.

Simple words. Rean was worried about her. It would be trivial to just call him right then and there; he wouldn't mind.

So how come she could only stare at the screen? She should have felt giddy, knowing her boyfriend cared so much about her. It didn't make her smile. Her heart didn't skip a beat.

It felt empty. She vacantly typed her reply.

**Re: **REAN SCHWARZER

**From:** FIE CLAUSSELL

**Subject:** (none)

busy

The door to her inn room opened. Pocketing her ARCUS, Fie smiled at the guest.

"Oh, did I interrupt your call?" Laura asked.

"No... We just finished, actually," Fie said. "You know Rean, let him be and he won't shut up about the importance of 'friendship' and 'working together' and stuff. The dummy."

"I suppose that is true," Laura said with a chuckle. "His worrying can be quite a handful at times."

"I'll tell him you said that. How's your arm, Laura?" Fie asked for the dozenth time.

Laura flexed the fingers of her broken arm. "I can move it around now, fortunately, and the doctors said it'll only take a few more days to heal. The sling stays, however."

"Sorry…"

"Don't be."

Easier said than done.

"Are you ready to head out?" Laura asked, eyeing the knapsack slumped atop the bed.

Nodding, Fie stood up. Black high-top sneakers squeaked on the varnished floor. "Thanks for the shoes by the way."

"They're a spare, back when they actually fit me. I felt a bit guilty that I haven't been able to make good use of them."

"I love them," Fie said with a smile and another foot squeak. "Can't wait to hide from my enemies with all this squeaking."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"No news yet on what's happening in the highlands, Your Highness. My apologies," Miles said as he shuffled through papers upon papers of reports— none containing answers to Scherazard's query.

"What about the highlands?" Fie asked curiously. The door to the guild branch swung closed and she was met with a beckoning wave from her bracer-slash-princess colleague. Laura waved back from behind.

"Something's causing big trouble near the borders to Erebonia and Remiferia," Scherazard said. "A darling friend of mine asked me for a few favors concerning it."

"Aren't Alisa and Gaius visiting Nord today, too?" Laura asked.

Fie nodded. "They'll be fine. Can you keep us updated whenever, Miles?"

"You got it." Picking up some sheets from under the receptionist's desk, Miles handed one to each of them. "I _do_ have the reports regarding the Red Constellation jaegers, though. Take a read."

Fie was to first to speak up, having chosen to skim through the paragraphs, "We really don't have any clues where Sigmund went?"

"None, apparently," Miles answered. "The last person to see him was Lord Arseid, and he claims he doesn't know where he might've gone."

Awfully suspicious, Fie thought. She glanced at Laura, who shrugged in response. A private family matter then, if Victor wanted to stay tight-lipped about it.

Other details in the report included: archaisms being scrapped and sent to experts for analysis— aka waiting on Alisa's desk to be read through when she gets home, safe and sound. She'll definitely be alright. Yeah.

Flipping to the next page, Fie's eyes narrowed at the sight of two familiar names. "At least Shirley and Cedric are still together. How lovey-dovey."

"Given how Ouroboros could pop up anywhere in Zemuria at any given time," Scherazard said, "I wouldn't blame anyone for not finding them." She huddled her shawl closer to her neck. "They're planning something, obviously. I'll have the army stay on the lookout for them."

"Hm? Fie, is something the matter?" Laura asked.

A few seconds of silence passed by with no answer. Closing her eyes, Fie spoke in a cautionary voice, "Don't."

All attention turned to the ex-jaeger. Laura bit her lip as she listened.

"Don't get the army involved. It'll only make it worse," Fie continued. "I feel like I understand Shirley's strength now. Why she does what she does, and how Ogre Cry works.

She's experienced it all firsthand. "The bloodier she gets, the stronger she becomes. She's unstoppable. Makes her dangerous. The army doesn't stand a chance."

"...But you do," Laura said.

Fie nodded weakly. "Maybe."

"Fie…"

"It's my fight, Laura. I'm not gonna run away." Fie smiled, half somber, half accepting. "I'm not rushing towards it, though, don't worry. I... just need to be prepared."

As prepared as she could be. On her own.

Laura looked at her broken arm hanging on its sling. Her dominant sword arm. She met Fie's feeble eyes and smiled back.

"That aside," Scherazard piped up, the cheery tone dispelling the atmosphere. "What are you planning to do now, Fie? Wanna join me on my trip across the lake?"

"Not today."

"Darn. Guess it's just me, Laura, and Mademoiselle Doobs to Sutherland. I wanted a whole party."

"Don't call me that!" a shrill shout came from the corner of the guild. Duvalie scowled before returning to her task of auditing the museum's damage report sprawled across the table. Laura scooched next to her on the sofa and helped sort through the files.

Fie's stoic face cracked for a moment. "S-sorry… Maybe I should go too— "

"Nuh-uh," Scherazard interrupted with a wave of her finger. "No take-backs. Miles' got something for you, anyway."

"Sure do," Miles said while ducked under his desk. He fished out a document and a pen and held them out for Fie.

She blinked. The words were an indecipherable mess, as far as she was concerned. It was, quite frankly, too technical for her brain. "What's this?"

"Just sign that for the guild and you can formally receive your newly minted Bracer Notebook."

Eyes lighting up, Fie scribbled down her initials on the (hopefully) only blank space available. "It's ready?"

"Yep. Not only that, someone's on the way to deliver it to you right now. Personally." Despite being inside a building, Miles' glasses fogged up like Legram's streets. He smiled devilishly. "I'm sure they'll be glad to see you."

Can she cross out her signature now? Fie handed the contract back with a glare. "You're not gonna tell me who it is again, are you?"

"That'll ruin the fun."

Fie sighed.

"Interested?" Miles asked. "They'll be arriving at Bareahard airport tomorrow morning. If you want to start up on your requests, you may do so after."

"Alright. If Schera's leaving, I'll go there right now."

Scherazard pouted. "Not gonna give your sis a goodbye hug before then?"

"Nah," Fie answered, gesturing to her everything. "Body's too sore for hugs."

"Well, at least have this." With a flick of Scherazard's wrist, a tarot card flew in Fie's direction. She caught it easily between her fingers. "'Too sore.' Yeah, right."

It was the Star Arcana card. "You sure?" Fie asked, already halfway to the door.

"I have a bunch of decks, anyway. I figure you'd need the spiritual guidance."

Fie grinned. "_The Star symbolizes good faith and renewed power— fulfillment in life if you go at it with a little bit of courage._ Heh, thanks, Schera."

"No problem."

Another blessing. Given to her weak and needy self. Fie gazed around the old, but homely guild branch. In the corner, two knights bickered and quarreled. Duvalie scolded the other for trying to write with a broken arm— not that Laura couldn't, but her flawless handwriting had understandably suffered because of it. She brushed it aside with a laugh, no doubt used to her friend's perfectionist attitude.

At the receptionist's desk, Miles flipped open an ARCUS for another report. He was the go-to man for information for both the RMP and the Bracer Guild, passing intelligence along at surprisingly efficient speeds despite his mischievousness. Scherazard, meanwhile, idly browsed the various requests pinned on the board. The Silver Streak hummed a soft tune as she plucked off a simple fetch request for the local bar, something she could do in her spare time.

Life was back to normal in Legram— almost too quickly after the festival. No scar. No sign of distress lingering in the townspeople. A return to peace. Nothing's changed.

Except for her.

Fie looked down at her shoes— borrowed, yet she loved them as if it was her own. She touched her scarf— frayed and derelict, but looked cool and complemented her hair. She flipped the tarot card— a reminder of what had happened, just like the scar on her cheek, and what's still to come. She knew what she had to do. She won't hide from it. She'll fight, on even ground this time.

Regardless if it meant breaking his heart. A text message pinged from her ARCUS. Fie ignored it.

In a lot of ways, she's changed. But some things were harder to let go of than others.

"Schera," Fie mumbled. The older woman heard it regardless.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Nothing wrong with wanting a hug. Scherazard felt warm. Taller and sexier. Fie hugged her tighter. "I'm happy to see you again, Schera," she said, the words long overdue, "Thanks for everything."

Scherazard embraced her in kind. Ruffling messy hair, she patted Fie's head. "The pleasure's all mine. See you again soon~."

"See ya."

* * *

"You really didn't have to come with me, Laura."

"You ran away from me plenty of times now," Laura said. "At least, let me see you off properly this time."

The small station rumbled as the chimes of a bell signaled the arrival of the next train. Fie grabbed her ticket from the clerk and tilted her head at the package at Laura's feet. "Those are…"

"Books."

Fie's mouth twitched.

"They're not for you," Laura said, smiling reassuringly. "These are reading materials I borrowed from Jusis. I was hoping you could return it for me."

"You mean, like a request?"

"Your very first."

Sounded easy enough. Grabbing the package by the strings, Fie smirked, "You do know my courier 'fies' are some of the highest on the continent, right?"

"Who do you take me for?" Laura quipped, "I have all the money I could ever need. I'll hire you to do my boring deliveries as much as I want."

"That is true. Thanks, Laura."

"_This one_, though, is for you," Laura said. Another book was placed atop the package, the cover of it showing a familiar man cloaked in royal clothes of darkness. A sapphire-haired princess stood by his side. Jet-black ink inscribed the logo at the bottom, along with its volume number.

Fie's eyes widened. "Laura, I can't accept this."

"I want you to have it."

"Why? I thought this book was special for your family?"

Laura shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"But— "

"Fie."

Laura's determined gaze shut her up. Fie couldn't meet her eyes and instead stared at the fantasy novel.

"I have been naive all my life," Laura said. "Naive enough to think that a mere book would solve all my problems. That isn't the whole truth.

"I, like you, am weak. Too set in my ways— in my principles— that I failed to notice exactly when my best friend started to hate me. And when I was told of it, I stubbornly refused to believe it. I thought that maybe it was just a mistake or a misunderstanding— that if I held my ground, I could have everything again."

Laura cupped a hand over her chest, her pristine white dress glimmering in the morning light. "That was wrong. I already had everything. You made me realize that. It made me realize that I too could one day lose the things I care about. That it is up to me to change myself to better protect those I hold dear.

Her lips curved into a radiant smile. "It is a lesson I won't soon forget, so… thank you, Fie."

"...I still can't accept this," Fie said.

"My mother was once a bracer too, you know. An adventurer. She would have wanted you to have it."

"..."

Speechless, Fie flipped through the book's pages. Lines and lines of flowery language structured the entire novel, some words she would have to ask Machias for a translation. An abundance of well-drawn images did alleviate matters, though. The first that caught her was that of the Prince, and his mentor, Auri-al.

Long, sapphire hair covered Auri-al's face as she embraced the Prince in her blood-stained dress. She was dying. A hole gaping through her chest, she was slowly fading away in the Prince's arms.

She was dying… but she faced death with a smile. Heavenly and with no regret. The Prince's arms held her tight as if begging her not to go. Tears were streaming down his handsome cheeks.

Something wet drizzled from her face. Fie had started crying too, and she didn't even realize. Looking up, she saw Laura still beaming at her, waiting for her response.

She nodded.

**"This is the final boarding call for the Ebel Branch Line. Passengers bound for Bareahard, please…"**

"I— I gotta go…"

"Mhm. See you again soon, Fie."

Without her usual goodbye, Fie boarded the passenger train— book and package in tow. The doors closed behind her, and through the glass pane, Laura waved at her.

She took her seat.

Steel wheels groaned as the train accelerated forward. Out of the windows, the scene changed from medieval walls into dense trees and woods. Lake Ebel painted the horizon in parallel strokes of blue water, white fog, and azure skies.

Legram was a town revered for its scenic beauty. She missed it already.

It would only take 90 minutes to get to Bareahard, and normally, Fie would use the time to take a nap. Sleep eluded her, however, her focus solely trained on the curious novel in her hands. It was the third book out of six if she recalled correctly.

Although reading the first now was sort of awkward and kind of impossible, she did have the second one courtesy of Alisa. Shifting to a more comfortable position, Fie took out the leatherbound second volume from her bag and turned to page one.

* * *

"Okay… Notebook? Check. ARCUS? Check. Airship ticket..."

This would be the first time she'd be visiting Erebonia in a while. It wasn't as cute as Liberl or Crossbell, but she had a friend she wanted to meet. She inspected her inventory again, checking off each and every item from the imaginary list in her head.

Glancing at the mirror, her yellow ribbon-headband bopped up and down on her light-brown hair. "I wonder if I should change the color?" she asked.

Eh, whatever. She'd just bring a bunch of ribbons instead. It looked like the guild would be dispatching her in Erebonia up till the new year anyway, so it wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

Her sword rasped into its sheath, its weight an intimate feeling to her. Stretching off the future cramps on her back (inevitably from the day-long airship ride she would suffer soon), she kissed her favorite Pom plushie on the cheek and returned it to its friends. This was going to be a blessed holiday season, she could tell. She couldn't wait to buy more plushies on sale to add to her collection.

"Wish me luck, guys!" the A-rank bracer exclaimed, before gleefully hopping out of her room.

* * *

**Fie, you piece of shit. Why would you make me write this?!**

**Light segway chapter to the Bareahard arc. This is gonna be fun. **

**And explanation: starting now, I decided to omit the chapter numbers from the title. I added them at first because this story WASN'T supposed to be this long. I figured it would look silly given how this is the 25th chapter out of what maybe 60-70.**

**Look forward to the next chapter of On Heaven's Wings coming soon. The events there will happen concurrently with the current arc so some references will be explained.**

**McburnDoodGuy - Glad you enjoyed the character development! I would love to hear your thoughts on how the first few chapters made you feel lost. **

**Reviews, favs and follows are appreciated. **

**See ya.**


	26. Chapter 26

**The Verdant City of Bareahard**

* * *

"That will be 12,780 mira."

Fie winced.

Screw taxes. Screw inflation. Screw that frikkin' bird for burning her old coat; this was the cheapest one on sale. In hindsight, she should've asked if she could borrow a jacket from Laura too— though that might be a bit shameless.

She handed the cashier the exact amount and wasted no time in putting on the dark-green parka. The quality fabric rubbed smoothly on her skin, bringing her warmth ratings up a dozen fold, yet still displaying excellent durability. It could probably endure her limber movements. The fur-trimmings were like flaky bristles to the touch; delicate, soft, and cozy.

It smelled amazing, too. Like bread fresh out of the oven, the parka had a distinctive… fresh smell. She puffed out her hood with her fingers.

Puffy.

...Yeah, she may need to work on her adjectives.

Whatever.

Exhaling cold, white breaths, Fie warmed her hands inside her coat and strolled out of Christie's Galleria. The holidays were just around the corner— in this case, quite literally. Streets buzzing with the jingling of mira pouches and merry laughter, the city oozed with wealth and gaudiness.

Doors chimed open as the aroma of meaty bread mingled with the fruity air of the nearby restaurants. Covering her lips with her scarf to not inadvertently lick them, Fie hurried her steps.

Luckily for her, she had already finished up her shopping list before the shops were crammed with people. A couple of sharpened bayonets, a dozen orbal bullet cartridges, and a handful of grenades, all bought from the resident black market. She got her ARCUS II tuned up as well; having replaced the old, spent quartz with shiny, new ones.

Her poor wallet, though. Laura's reward money, gone kaput in the blink of an eye. Guess she's eating rations for today. Maybe even tomorrow.

Fie sighed. She walked into the plaza and plopped herself down on a nearby bench. The acting duke was the one responsible for delegating the tasks to bracers in lieu of the abandoned guild branch, so that means she was going to have to wait until Jusis to come back. In other words, a slow day; no work until later in the evening. She sorta missed being swamped with requests.

Jusis was kind enough to let her stay in his mansion, but even the luxurious cotton beds weren't enough to lull her into naptime. Dumping her stuff in her room, Fie chose to wander around town until something important happens or something. Or anything, actually.

She closed her eyes and forced her muscles to relax. The stone bench felt frigid cold on her butt and back, only made worse by the constant chill breeze blowing from the northwest. At least her new parka was a good buy; if she didn't have it, she'd be parked in front of a fireplace right about now.

"Bored…"

Fie tapped her foot. Powdery snow muffled the floor. She slid her hand across the bench. Cold, hard, un-nappable. She stroked her hair. It remained a wild, tangly mess. She punched some numbers on her ARCUS II… but deleted them right away— she wasn't in the mood to have a conversation.

A couple walked in front of her. A noble and a commoner, easily recognizable from how different they were dressed. Their gloved hands meshed together, red and blue fingers intertwining like in sickeningly sappy romance books. They laughed, seemingly from a joke Fie didn't hear.

One of them noticed her staring. She scowled them away.

Fie pouted. "Fine."

Doubling her scarf around her neck, she took out a book from her pocket. She wasn't actually planning on reading more of _The Dark Prince_ today, but a part of her wanted to keep the novel close incase she got hella bored. Admittedly, she left off at quite an interesting point: a break in-between action scenes where the Prince unknowingly saves Magical Girl Arisa's human form. The tarot card Schera gave her functioned as a cool bookmark too.

Midday now. She had the entire afternoon to read. So, she read.

And read, and read.

...

"Have you heard? Apparently, Davos' Factory would be hosting an orbal bike show later. Lots of chicks are gonna be coming, dude…"

"Oh yeah? I wonder if those new bikes will be on sale soon…"

"How much do you suppose one of those costs?"

...

*Did you see how fast those things went?! It's crazy!"

"Daaaad, I want an orbal bike too!"

"Let the peasants have their cars and bikes. True nobles know that equestrianism is superior..."

"Ohohoho, I can't wait to see Heimdallr's festival. Legram's certainly was lively…"

...

"...is would like to see you now, Miss Fie."

Fie broke out of her immersion. She looked up and saw one of Jusis' butlers standing in front of her.

"Lord Jusis asked me to fetch you, Lady Fie," the butler, Arnauld if she remembered correctly, said.

"Oh…"

Evening already? Come to think of it, it had been sort of difficult to read recently. Above her, the sun dwindled down from the horizon as orange light started filtering in through the roofs. Yellow clouds drifted across the sky, and a flock of birds flew through them like black bullets. Below, the streets bustled with even more life— the labor hours having ended and civilians from all around gathering in the plaza to unwind. The cathedral bell chimed, signaling the end of the afternoon mass. It seemed to be peak hours for the nearby restaurants too, being jam-packed with nobles and commoners alike.

Had she been reading for that long? She barely noticed the time.

Putting her bookmark where she left off, Fie nodded and got in the limousine Arnauld had prepared for her. The prince's duel with his magical girl rival could wait.

Gilded gates swung open as they drove inside the Albarea household. No matter how often she visited, she still couldn't believe how rich her Duke friend is. The mansion easily dwarfed Laura's in size and scale— and that's not even mentioning the massive garden.

Varnished doors greeted her at the steps. They lumbered inwards. Orange afternoon light reflected off the crystalline floor while emerald banners decorated the mansion's hallways on both sides. Monolithic pillars, a testament to the age and history of Bareahard's architects, separated her from the chandeliers glowing high above.

Those chandeliers shook, as a quake rumbled the entire mansion.

Fie staggered. "Wha— ?"

Another tremble, less intense, but several times louder, almost like explosions.

_Not again. _

"Where are those coming from?" Fie asked.

Arnauld looked unperturbed. "I believe those are originating from the garden, my Lady. Shall I escort you to— "

"Thanks, but no time," Fie said. She already knew the way, so she rushed past the man and jumped out the nearby window into the back garden.

The sounds of fighting were close. Sprinting towards it, Fie dove to the ground when another explosion boomed. It came from behind the stables where Jusis kept his horses.

It couldn't be another jaeger attack, could it? Cautiously, Fie snuck her way through the maze of hedges and bushes. She activated _Concealing Wind_ when she got closer and leaped atop a tree overlooking the garden. Steel clashed, blunt and loud. Focusing her eyes, she surveyed the surrounding area for any hostiles.

She didn't find any.

What she did find were two familiar-looking girls wearing a matching pair of cute black and white bunny hoodies.

"Lammy, Tackle! Ram him to next season!" the black-hoodied girl shouted.

"Retreat, Claiomh Solais. _Ebon Shade_!" the white one ordered in response.

Airgetlam charged forward like a silver bull, arms poised in a shoulder tackle. It smashed against the beehive barrier its opponent had erected.

The attack nullified, Claiomh Solais faded into a hazy mirage, dodging Airgetlam's follow-up swipes with ease. It flew above and swung a dark guillotine blade down on its unsuspecting enemy.

Millium Orion, in a moment of clever insight, told her puppet to raise its arms up, catching Claiomh Solais's blade in its 'hands' just before it hit. "Gotcha! Now blow him away!"

A red glow emanated from Airgeltlam's eye.

"Disengage, Sammy!" Altina Orion yelled. Claiomh Solais did so, evading the laser beam at the last second. It spun twice and gathered blue energy onto its eye. "Brionac, fire!"

Both archaisms fired at the same time, Claiomh Solais' azure laser to slamming against Airgetlam's crimson one. A bubble formed, bathing the garden in sparkling violet light. Each intensified their lasers, neither looking close to dissipating as one pushed against the other.

The bubble burst in a white flash.

"Let's finish this!" Millium shouted. Airgetlam blipped in response.

Cyan hair antennas bobbing up and down, she punched forward. "Lammy, do a Jusis!"

Fie cocked a brow. _A Jusis?_

Airgetlam dashed to his opponent on command and unleashed a rapid flurry of punches. Silver arms blurred, quickening after every strike.

Claiomh Solais braced its arms to defend like before, but the relentless attacks disabled its ability to project a barrier. It futilely weathered through and pleaded for its master in desperate robotic bleeps.

"Hold, Claiomh Solais…" Altina said. Her face grimaced from watching her beloved partner get hurt. It was too much to bear for her heart. Still, she waited patiently, thoughts whirring several arge per second as the barrage continued.

Airgetlam floated high into the air. Dense orbal energy cascading into its arms, it shot itself towards Claiomh Solais, fist-first.

Altina smirked. She fanned out her arms. "Sammy! Divide!"

Airgetlam's special attack missed completely. Right before colliding, Claiomh Solais had split into two.

"Lammy!" Millium cried out. Airgetlam's arms were seized by its opponent. It couldn't move, or retreat. Rege by rege, the two black dolls pulled on the joints. Airgetlam struggled in vain to free itself from its captivity.

Altina held out her hand, adopting a menacing pose like that of a quirky villain. "Did you really think we would fall for the same trick twice? You would do well never to underestimate my analytical capabilities, dear sister."

Millium's confidence waned, bit by bit. She clenched her fists. "C' mon, Lammy… Smash outta there… You can do it…"

"Surrender, or this shall not end well for Airgetlam!" Altina shouted.

Steel joints creaked. Claiomh Solais pulled harder. Airgetlam screeched.

"Okay, you win!" Tears falling from her cheeks, Millium collapsed to her knees, defeated. "Just stop hurting Lammy!"

"Claiomh Solais."

On Altina's command, both Claiomh Solais' let go. It merged back into one and beeped happily.

"I'm so sorry, Lammy…" Millium murmured. Airgetlam hummed sadly back.

"I have proven to be the winner once again," Altina said, a smug grin adorning her face. "As we have discussed, the spoils of my victory will be five orders of Sorciere's Deluxe Extra Cream Pancakes. Extra syrup."

"What?!" Millium shot up to her feet. "We agreed on three!"

"Not according to my memory, no. I distinctly remember saying five."

"Nuh-uh! It was three!"

"...Four."

"Three."

Altina pouted. Millium growled.

"How's about I buy both of you dinner instead?" a dignified voice said, following a golf clap. The blond man walked up to the two girls with a graceful smile fitting his nobility.

Millium sparkled in delight. "You would really do that, Jusis?" she asked, hesitating only the tiniest bit.

"I would rather dig through my wallet rather than my ears listening to the two of you bicker about it," Jusis Albarea said. His arms were crossed, but it was apparent he meant it in jest. Mostly. He turned to his left and locked eyes with the still bush. "Of course, YOU are free to join us as well, if you are so inclined to."

The leaves shook. Haze-like winds dispersed as Fie stepped out from the shadows. "Drat. I've been spotted."

"Fie!" Millium immediately shouted, eyes happily squeezed shut while she launched herself into a tackle hug.

Spinning around to diminish the impact— a maneuver Fie could do only after months of practice— she smiled. Millium's boundless energy had seeped into it. "Hey, Millium. Long-time no see."

"It is a pleasure to see you, Instructor." Altina bowed politely. Mimicking her, Claiomh Solais bowed too.

Adorable. "No need to be so formal, Altina," Fie addressed her former student. "I'm guessing Millium forced you to tag along?"

The helpless younger sister giggled. "Heehee. That would be correct."

"Hey, hey. Cool scar. Where'd ya get it, Fie?" Millium asked, separating from their hug. She held the sides of her hood and swayed left and right, her smile curved cattily.

Fie scratched her cheek on reflex. It was clearly visible, but it wasn't like she was trying to hide it. "Thanks, but I'll tell you about it some other time."

"Awww…"

"No, I believe that it IS a matter we should be talking about together," Jusis said. He arched a brow and stared dumbfoundedly at the troublesome bracer. "I still have yet to hear your side of the story regarding last night's events. And I do think you owe us an explanation, Fie. Over a meal, if you would prefer that."

"I would prefer that, I guess," Fie answered. Truthfully, she'd rather let the whole ordeal slide, but the thought of an angry duke and his zero-degree glower was more than enough to change her mind. And SHE was the queen of glares. "Can I pass on the pancakes, though?"

"...It doesn't have to be pancakes."

"Okay, good. Are you sure I can join?"

"Of course." Jusis straightened out the non-existent wrinkles of his coat. "Who do you take me for? Feel free to order whatever you wish. My treat."

"Ooh, ooh." Millium raised her hand and hopped in place like a hyperactive rabbit. "Can I have that beefy beef curry we had last time, too?"

"I would like some crepes," Altina chimed in. In contrast to her sister, she put her hands coolly in her pockets— but there was no denying the excited twinkle in her eyes at the prospect of more dessert.

Millium cooed, "Crepes, yessssss." Some saliva spilled from her lips. "Ham crepes, Curry crepes, Cheese and Mushroom crepes…"

"Banana Chocolate crepes, Triple Berry Madness crepes, filled with ice cream…" Altina continued, drooling a bit in tandem.

"Pizza crepes, Carbonara crepes, Tomato and Seafood Paella crepes…"

"Smore crepes, Fruitcake crepes, with little scones as sides…"

Seemed like you can put anything in crepes these days. Jusis facepalmed. "_Three_ orders for each of you. No more than that."

If any more, he'd be worried about the restaurant's food supply more than the cost.

"M'kay," Millium replied.

Altina nodded. "Yes. Three would more than suffice, thank you."

Fie couldn't stop herself from chuckling. Might as well join in, right? After all, it's free food. "Hey, Millium. What's the most expensive dish they have at Sorciere's?"

Millium stroked her chin haughtily. "That is a good question, my good madame, and I do believe I have the answer to your _quiree-ay_."

"It's 'query,'" Jusis deadpanned.

"Shush. I'm trying to copy you. Anyway, THE most expensive dish I would recommend would be that fancy C-word those nobles keep talking about."

Be mature, Fie. "C-word?" she asked, trying to dispel whatever unholy images had wandered into her mind.

"Yup," Millium said. "They're absolutely c-r-a-z-y about it. What was it called again, Tilly? Cabi— Caji— Cavee— Cabbage— ?"

Altina tilted her head. "Caviar?"

"Yeah, that!"

"Welp, I'll have some caviar then," Fie requested. She didn't even know what it was. It sounded fancy, and way over her budget.

"One _ca-vee-ar_ for each of us, Jusis!" Millium demanded.

"Caviar, dear sister. But yes, I'll have some caviar too please," Altina declared.

Under the gaze of the two childish teenage girls, Jusis groaned. "Very well."

"Yay! You're the best Jusis!"

"What're you— ?!"

Millium grabbed Jusis' hand and spun him thrice around before jumping on his back. Wrapping her limbs on his body, she pointed forward, not skipping an energetic beat. "Onward my _darling_ steed! Our dinner date awaits!"

"G-get off me!" Jusis exclaimed. A freckle of a blush dusted dignified visage. "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't have the body of a child anymore. Stop clinging to me so much!"

Millium blushed too but tempered it with a leer. "Oh? You mean this ~?" she said as she pressed her breasts against Jusis's back. "They got _preeetttyy_ big, huh~?"

A sullen expression fell on Fie's face. She looked at her chest and glared. Last time they checked, Millium's was larger by a significant margin. Not as noticeable as Alisa or Emma's, but still.

"Cease this at once, Millium!"

"Haha! I really gotta thank Alisa for making a new body for me. Boobs are great!"

"That still doesn't resolve the problem here," Jusis said, cheeks flushed maddingly. He clutched Millium's long legs, having given up on prying the grown girl off him. "Just… behave, alright?"

"Yessir! Now let's go go go!"

"Come along, you two," Jusis said.

Fie smiled. There really was no beating Millium's sheer enthusiasm.

She felt a hand grab hers. Altina's delighted smile greeted her, so she patted the younger girl's head in response. Been a while since Fie was in the giving end of it, but she didn't mind. Altina's cute purring made it all the more worthwhile.

Together, the four of them walked back to the mansion just as the last rays of sunlight set on the lush, verdant city of Bareahard.

* * *

**It's canon. I dare you to say otherwise. And even if you don't think so, you gotta admit JusiMiri is hella cute.**

**As for Millium's new body, imagine her but with a body appropriate of that of an 18-year old. And she's 18 here because Falcom themselves can't get their ages right, smh. How she got that body, well… let's say it's an important prequel story that I have no intention of telling yet. Heh.**

**Feedback is appreciated.**

**See ya.**

**(PS. yes that Millium tidbit in the first chapter of OHW was a setup for a boob joke. 10/10 comedy right here. /s)**


	27. Chapter 27

**The One Law to Rule Them All**

* * *

...

Fire. Fire blazed everywhere, scorching the trees and scorched the stone walls black. Embers crackled maniacally like a chorus of hellspawn. Smoke obscured the sky and poisoned the air. Everything blurred red. It was hot— too hot. The flames were roasting her alive.

_It's your fault…_

"No… it isn't— "

How could she still deny it? Everything was her fault.

Her fault all of her friends died.

They laid on the ground as charred, faceless corpses of their once lively selves. Unrecognizable save for their weapons littered beside them. Some still clutched theirs in their hands while others gored through their bodies.

They were all dead. Because of her.

"No…"

A crippling pain assaulted her legs. She fell atop of one of the bodies. Only when she had her face up against it did she realize that it was Rean's. Hollow. Brittle. Like spent firewood. He smelled of ash, like his moniker. She tried to scream, but an ear-splitting noise shocked her into silence. A flashbang.

Guns roared above her.

"Kill the monster!" a soldier shouted.

What monster? There were two. One played dead among the dead. The other a red-haired ogre that wailed horribly.

The ogre laughed. Tears strained its eyes bloody red. It held it's blade rifle up, and in a flash, the charging army was obliterated. Blood splashed everywhere.

"Come on…! Bring me more!" the ogre yelled. "More… MORE…! I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!"

It jumped to the next group. The soldiers shot at it, rifles aimed at the ogre's vitals to put it down once and for all.

But it was too late. The soldiers died the same— sawed in half, never laying a scratch on the ogre. They screamed in panic and fear.

Sanguine dyed the ogre's limbs. It laughed again. "HAHAHA! WEAK! SLOW! COME HERE SO I CAN KILL ALL OF YOU!"

She laid on the ground, watching as the ogre massacred anyone who approached. It met her eyes, and it smiled.

"When I'm done killing everyone," the ogre said, its demonic sword pointed at her, ready to fulfill its duty to reap death among the living. "_You're. Next."_

The ogre smiled, broader, baring its blood-fed fangs for all to see.

She trembled. "No, no, no, no, no..."

"Hehehe... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

...

Why.

She forced herself to run, like so many times before. Why was there no escape?

Why did it hurt so much to be the only one left alive?

"Why…?"

Why her? She just wanted a family; to live peacefully with them. To be cared for forever.

Why can't she be loved? Was it because she was a jaeger? Was it because of her sin of living a life amongst the strong? Or was it because she was too weak to defend it?

Why then…?

"...WHY WON'T YOU KILL ME INSTEAD?!"

* * *

_**Thud**__!_

Fie fell off the bed. "...Ow."

She stared at the carpet— green. It felt fuzzy on her cheek. "Whoever said cats always land on their feet was a liar," she declared. That, or she wasn't really catty enough yet.

Sighing, she carefully unknotted the blanket binding her legs. Just another nightmare; they were becoming quite common now. One reason she couldn't nap no matter how much she tried. At least she slept until morning— a bit too early for her, but she'd take it over a restless night.

Might as well walk around. Stretch her legs a bit and exercise. Taking a left at all intersections, Fie delved deeper into parts of the mansion she hadn't been in yet.

"..."

...Annnnd she's lost.

She's never been this deep into the mansion before. She'd retrace her steps, but she lost count how many lefts she took. Didn't that mean she went in a spiral? Was that even architecturally plausible? Normally, she'd just hop out the window and reorient herself outside, but…

There were absolutely no windows. At all. Underground dungeon it is.

The hallway looked different from the others too. Rustic red— not verdant green or royal yellow. Dim sconces and candelabras constituted as the only available light sources, flickering in the non-existent wind and casting shadows on the big-ass paintings that reached the ceiling.

There was a door at the other end of the hallway. Fie rapped a fist on it. It sounded like old wood.

No answer. She knocked again, louder. "Knock, knock."

Still nothing.

"..." Experience, instincts, and everything really, dictated her she shouldn't be here— that she should turn tail and forget about it. Leave it be, pretty much what she should have done back in Ymir.

But she was _oh so curious._

Fortunately for Jusis, she didn't bring her explosives. She could pick her way in though— assuming it's not barred on the other side.

The pick clattered tightly. "Just a bit more…"

"What are you doing, Instructor?"

"Finding out what's inside," Fie answered absentmindedly. She heard the distinct chink of the mechanism giving way. "Bingo."

Humming in excitement, she cautiously turned the knob and pushed the door inward. For a seemingly abandoned dungeon, the hinges looked oiled enough to not creak as the door opened without much resistance.

"Nice work. Can you teach me how to do that sometime?"

"Sure," Fie said. "The lock was an old model type, too, so it was pretty easy."

She stared at the white-haired white-hoodied girl innocently blinking behind her. "That aside, what are you doing here, Altina?"

Altina tilted her head. "I was following you."

Plain and simple. Not even a 'why.' Fie sweatdropped.

"Are you not going inside?" Altina asked.

"I would if you promise to keep it a secret from Jusis."

"Can I tell Millium?"

"Definitely… not."

"Fine, I promise not to tell," Altina said with a nod. Her glimmering eyes reminded Fie of her own exploratory curiosity.

Anyway. "Alright…" Fie sharpened her senses as the two of them slowly walked in.

Just as expected, the room was barren. Dusty as hell, too. Giant cobwebs decorated various corners of the dark, bland room. A bedroom, as the overall structure looked familiar to the others in the mansion. The walls were also a rustic red and, bizarrely, had a single boarded-up window. A window underground. The chair oddly stacked atop another chair was the icing on the cake for the whole abandoned room vibe.

Still, nothing out of the creepy ordinary. No ghosts popping out of the walls, no lost family treasures tucked behind beds. Honestly speaking, she didn't expect to find a lot; it was just a room. Some priceless artifact would have been nice, but it's hardly worth getting into trouble with Jusis for.

A dry crunch came from underfoot. Looking down, Fie saw large, black, oval dots strewn all over the floor.

...

Come to think of it, those cobwebs were a bit _too_ big to be from any 'normal' spider. Fie retracted her foot. Something slimy clung to the sole. Altina grimaced.

"...Want to keep going?" Fie asked.

"Nah."

* * *

"I was in attendance, and I deem it a resounding success, Denver." Jusis Albarea nodded at the most recent addition to the merchants of his city. "I'm looking forward to your next showing, whenever that may be."

Denver was a stout man, with an equally robust mustache. It ruffled vigorously as the merchant guffawed. "Hahaha, t' was my pleasure, Sir. I just wanted to help spread the word about the Reinford's amazing, new orbal bikes."

"And the word has indeed spread. Congratulations." The merriment from Denver's enthusiasm was contagious, as Jusis found himself smiling too. "I believe you said you were a former employee of Alisa's?"

"That I did. Couldn't have asked for a better boss than her, if I may say so."

"You are your own boss now; Bareahard needs more people with fire like you," Jusis said, encouraging the aspiring entrepreneur. "If there is anything you need of me to assist, feel free to ask."

Denver scratched his cheek. It had a bit of black oil stuck on it, so he wiped it clean. "Must be pretty tough without the Bracer Guild again. Heard they got shut down HARD."

"That's… classified information, I'm afraid."

Hard doesn't even begin to describe it, considering the guild house was blown to smithereens by jaegers all those months ago.

"I do realize, however, the importance of such an iconic presence like the bracers for citizens such as yourself," Jusis said. "So as acting duke, I fully intend on reestablishing the branch, however long it may take. You have my word."

"Great to hear. You got a pretty decent head on your shoulders, sir, for someone so young. Don't mean to offend in any way."

"No offense taken. Shall I have Arnauld escort you out?"

"No need." Denver shook his head and gathered up his bulging backpack. He always carried around his tools, for some reason or another. Must have come with working as a mechanic for so long. "Pleasure doing business, sir! I still have plenty of ideas left to try if you'll let me."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Jusis watched as the burly man jogged out the door. He barely got to sigh before it slammed open again, revealing his most liked, yet least welcome (at the moment) person bouncing while carrying a tray.

"Time for breakfast~!" Millium shouted. Needlessly loud, if Jusis may add. His office wasn't _that_ big. An assortment of forks, knives, and a plate clattered atop the desk as Millium dropped them into it with her standard levels of energy. Something resembling food glowed atop it.

"What's this?" Jusis asked.

"It's _omelette du fromage~."_

Wasn't it _'au'_? More importantly, "Why is it green?"

And glowing, though he dreaded to ask.

"I put in a BUNCH of basil for you, along with some random ones I found in the fridge, cuz I know you like your herbs," Millium answered, wide-eyed smile in place. "It started looking green-ish, so I added in green food coloring to make it look more consistent."

It certainly smelled herbaceous, but Jusis started to doubt it was _just_ food coloring.

"...It needs work." He would applaud the effort— if it didn't taste as disgusting as it looked. Thankfully, Millium went with plain green tea for drinks. Aidios knows how many times he got drunk sampling her 'concoctions.'

Millium pouted. "Boo. I even woke up super early to cook, too."

"You just have to cook better, then. Keep trying."

"That's not what you're supposed to say here, idiot," Millium mumbled.

"Hm? All I said was to keep trying. I wouldn't mind if you cooked for me every day, to be honest."

"Bwuh?!"

Jusis nonchalantly brought another spoonful of the green egg to his mouth and a sip from his tea before staring at a jaw-dropped Millium. Her face flushed red. "What is it this time?"

"D-Did you just…?!" she exclaimed. "Cook for you every day?!"

"You can refuse. I imagine it will be troublesome, taking into account your schedule and your job."

Millium waved her arms frantically back and forth. A mosquito? "No! I-I mean, I'll be happy to! But…"

She looked away and fiddled with her hair. It reached her shoulders now, making her look more feminine. Millium then whispered slowly. "Are you sure? You're happy with little ol' me?"

?

"Of course I'm happy." Jusis smiled as sincerely as his lips could. "Having a friend cook for you is a rarity as it is. I would prefer having you cook for me every day than having none at all."

"…"

"What?"

Millium's stare dug into him— like giant yellow orbs carving through the bone. She sighed. "I see Rean's lady-killer ways have rubbed off on you, too. Typical."

"Why is this about Rean all of a sudden?"

"Don't worry about it," Millium said, playfulness back in her tone. She poked a finger to Jusis' nose. "No take-backs, though. I'm gonna keep cookin' for ya till you die!"

"Please don't send me to the hospital."

"That's fine." MIllium nodded and turned around to hide her face. Jusis could tell she was still blushing and smiling. He ate what's left of the 'food' in relative silence until his plate was clean, just like how his mother and uncle always taught him to.

Millium waited for him to finish while munching on her bag of cookies. "Oh yeah," she piped up, mouth full of dough, "Fie asked if you wanted to go to the airport with us."

"I do... after I conclude the rest of my morning tasks," Jusis said as he emptied his cup. Breakfast complete. "I'll have her the list of requests to do by then."

"KK."

"Do you have anything in mind? Anything you want to add to it?"

"Hmmm…" Millium stroked her chin in a display of rare concentration. "Not… especially."

_Definitely something then,_ Jusis thought. 'Not especially' meant the mischievous girl was planning something but still only in its early stages. "Regardless," he stated, "if you _do_ have something we can for our little problematic bracer friend, then I'm all ears. Don't hesitate to ask."

"Mhmm. Thanks, Jusis." Stacking the dining ware to the tray, Millium frolicked out the room before stopping at the door and turning back around. "Actually…. there is one thing..."

"Hm?"

"You're gonna love it."

Which probably meant he was going to hate and/or regret it. Most likely both. Still, Jusis failed to hide the amusement dawning on his face as he listened to her scheme.

* * *

Bareahard Airport. Next to the Noble's District, the airport was where you would find the largest clusters of nobles all in one place, either arriving into the city or in a hurry to board the next luxury cruise liner. Finely-dressed men and women carried themselves with a manner and dignity Fie would call pompous.

Not that she'd actually describe them that; she just copied it off of Machias' standard ramblings. She drank her fruit juice— err, 'commoner juice,' as one noble respectfully commented before she chased them off with a glare. Altina sipped hers right beside, more bored than peeved.

Her bracer notebook should be arriving this morning, plus whoever it was delivering it. To her knowledge, the person shouldn't be anyone too prolific. Sara was in Jurai. Agate at home in Liberl. Scherazard out parading in the Sutherland Province, while Arios and Zin would be too busy.

...Was that everyone or did she forget someone? Whatever.

"I'm BORED!" Millium yelled to the annoyance of every noble nearby, though in their defense, it only took them a second to realize who it was sitting next to the loud and obnoxious child. They went about their ways after one wordless glower from Jusis.

He sighed. "It's the holidays. Delayed flights are a common occurrence this time of year. Be patient."

"But I'm booooreeed."

"Would you care for a round of Vantage Masters, dear sister?" Altina asked, no doubt experienced in handling a Millium. "There's a table right here."

"Oohhhh, you're on!" Millium said as she eagerly slammed her deck on the table. "Time to settle yesterday's score, Tilly."

"Standard wage?"

"Standard wage."

"Accepted." Smirk teetering the edge on cunning, Altina placed her Master Card onto the middle tile. "Since I'm feeling generous, you may have the first turn."

Not much else to do, Fie observed their match from the sidelines.

...Wait a minute. That Master Card is—

"HEY, no fair!" Millium recognized as well. "That's REAN'S deck!"

"He let me borrow it. My turn."

...Utter curb stomp. Millium's defensive strategy melted like paper before Rean's nigh-unstoppable, min-maxed, blazing fire deck. Rean filled it with uber-rarity cards, too. The stupid addict.

"Arggghhh!"

"Don't worry," Altina said. She was already shuffling her cards for round two. "This shall be the best two-out-of-three."

It didn't matter; they dubbed Rean the 'VM King' for a reason. He had an uncharacteristically heated enthusiasm for the children's card game— something he annoyingly took after from Crow.

Fie yawned.

"Bed not comfortable enough for you?" Jusis asked. Despite his duke status, he seemed perfectly content officiating Millium and Altina's duel. "I can book you a place in the hotel if you feel it imposing."

She shook her head and buried her face into her scarf. "No, it's not that."

"Nightmares?"

"...Yeah."

"I see…"

Fie didn't feel like sharing it, and she thanked Jusis for letting it slide. She hardly cared for it even; most of it lost in the dregs of her mind. She let her thoughts wander around a bit more.

Altina won again, unsurprisingly. Millium being Millium, refused to submit to the loss. Despite the hostility, the two girls looked to be enjoying themselves— or at least weren't bored. Millium wasn't, and Altina was having the time of her life beating her sister over and over again if her smug grin was anything to go by.

At around their sixth duel (they didn't last very long), the intercom announced that an airship from Leman had docked. Fie stood up and stretched her sleepiness away. Her companions weren't budging, so Jusis nodded for her to go on along.

She eyed the vessel. "Visuals acquired. Who is it this time, Miles?"

One by one, Fie scanned the passengers as they got off into the landing bay. Half tourists, half academics carrying with them suitcases bulging with documents and research papers. No bracers, though. No one she was acquainted with, anyway.

"...Hm?"

Weird. All of the passengers had gotten off, but she didn't see anyone remotely resembling a bracer. No weapons, no armor. Not even a guild-issued orbment belt and pouch. Did the person get on the wrong flight?

She had almost given up on her search when a voice, lively and spirited, shouted from inside the ship.

"Wait! I still need to get off!"

Fie recognized the voice… along with the yellow ribbon bobbing atop a head of bright brown hair. Her eyes widened. _Nope._

Blending in with the crowd as much as she humanly can, Fie turned on her heel and walked away briskly. Very, very briskly.

"FIEEEEEEEEE!"

_NOPE._

She was just about to bolt when a pair of slender yet finely trained and extremely strong A-rank bracer arms seized her into an unwanted cuddle. Face smothered and oxygen scarce, Fie struggled to speak through the awkward womanhandling.

"Awawawa~ So cute so cute so cuuuuuuute! You're still so so cuuuute!"

"Anelace…! Not in public!"

Beaming ecstatically, Anelace Elfead ruffled Fie's hair like she would an adorable kitten. "I missed you suuuuuuper much!"

"ImissedyoutoonowLETGO!"

Fie tried. Tried, but again, '_extremely strong A-rank bracer arms.'_

"Ah!" Anelace looked up. "Altina too!"

"Woah—!"

Fie head still locked in one arm, Anelace shot towards the doe-eyed Black Rabbit.

Altina gulped dryly. She attempted to flee, but she, too, got caught in the cute lover's embrace. "Guh…!"

"Oh, you two are so adorable I can't help myself!" Anelace exclaimed while rubbing cheeks with both her captives. Captives she was slowly asphyxiating by the neck.

"Millium… help…" Fie pleaded out of desperation.

Bad call. Millium's eyes lit up as well. "Okay, group hug!" she shouted as she pulled Jusis in by the hand into the ever-growing ball of hugs and cuddles. He tried to stop her, of course, but his poor dignity died in vain.

"Ahh… so much cute…" Anelace said. "I'm in heaven… Someone slap me."

_**Slap!**_

"Thanks!"

Fie, who had gotten out and immediately obliged with the slapping, wheezed for air. She glared at the chortling crowd as hard as she could pass her ruined bangs, her image of being a calm and collected woman crushed to death by cuteness. Literally.

She'll take back what she said about being bored now. Legram had it bad, but this was much worse.

"Ahhh~. So cute…"

With an intoxicated Anelace, an overbearingly frisky Millium, an exasperated and defeated Jusis, and a whimpering Altina smushed between the three of them… no amount of preparation can stop the disaster waiting to unfold.

And Fie would be front and center for it. "I'm gonna kill Miles."

Really, couldn't he have AT LEAST warned her?

* * *

**Cuteness is justice, after all. It's the law.**

**Reaaaaallly long delay. Sorry about that. Was busy between schooling and binging my gaming backlog before my copy of CS3 arrives. -also mild writers block-**

**Reviews, pms, favs and follows are welcome and appreciated. **

**See ya.**


	28. Chapter 28

**The Sealed Room**

* * *

Merciless. Cruel, vicious fangs zeroed in towards her. In seconds, she would be decapitated. What little she had left in life— truly a pitiful amount— flashed before her eyes.

Soon, she would be dead.

All because of _him._

* * *

"No."

"Awww… please, Fie? One more hug?"

"No."

Anelace clutched her chest and whimpered, unable to bear being close to such intolerable cuteness yet forbidden to touch it. Her arms fruitlessly tried to grasp her colleague's frame. "Pleeeaaaaaaseeeee…"

Fie blocked her cuddle bug tendencies with a hand to the face. "No."

"B-but— Airship... An entire day without cuteness... "

Ah, yes. A whole twenty-four hours stuck on a cruise ship. No luxuries; just a dull drift across the sky on an un-cuddleable steel horse. Unimaginable boredom. Fie could relate… except it's been months since she last left the country on such a long trip. Frankly, getting the requisite documents for a permit was more of a hassle. "...Fine," she relented.

"Yay!"

On one condition. "Not in public."

"Okay!" Anelace agreed quickly enough. Where was that obedience when they were at the airport?

Altina sighed, in desperate need of a comb for her frizzled hair. "I was careless… I need to increase my reaction time…"

So she can escape getting cuddled again, of course.

"You guys are so dramatic," Millium said mockingly despite two sets of green eyes glaring at her. "Cuddling's super fun!"

"For you," Fie chided back, to which Altina affirmed with a nod.

"Bareahard is so pretty~." Anelace, having already left the conversation and was now taking in the sights, spread her arms out and she circled around the Cathedral plaza— earning the ire of some of the nobles nearby. Her breastplate shone a vivid blue in the sun. Red coat tails swayed with the breeze, and a yellow ribbon bobbed with her every step— a vivid contrast with Bareahard's predominantly gray and green architecture.

She took out her ARCUS II. "Oh, I can't forget to take some pictures too!" Blissfully ignorant of the sneers coming her way, Anelace acquainted herself with the passersby- more so if they were, in her definition, cute.

Fie found Anelace to be the cutest one there, irritation notwithstanding. She let her rude remarks slide. At least with the much more sociable Anelace, bracer operations should progress more efficiently. Theoretically.

Might as well start now. The four of them had left the airport for lunch a while ago and chatted on the way to the city's noble district. Jusis, unfortunately, had Duke business to take care of, while Millium and Altina had somewhere else to be after escorting the two bracers to their venue. Top secret, even with the sister's loose lips.

Fie fiddled with the notebook safely tucked inside her vest. True to their word, the guild had provided a brand-new notebook for her, delivered by Anelace, who was assigned to be her partner and overseer, albeit temporarily.

And what was a more classic bracer work than a monster extermination request?

"Is this the place?" Fie asked. A somewhat oversized building stood before them. Stone walls with fissures spread over it oozed with green vines, but even with those, the house stood a sturdy two stories tall. Apparently, it also had an expansive basement, as their request form described. It was teeming with monsters, obviously.

The pay was good, though. The dire straits of her wallet necessitated that this request should be done first— as base as cleaning a house like a couple of housemaids was.

"Yep," Millium nodded. She hugged a small green hat to her chest before putting it atop her head. A gift by Anelace. The furry white bobble at the crown bounced up and down along with its owner. "'The big stone house two blocks down. 'Can't-miss it,' says Jusis."

Altina bowed politely, the black-feathered derby hat (also a gift) accentuating her lustrous hair. "We shall be departing here. If you require our assistance, please do not hesitate to contact us on our ARCUS II."

"Roger," Fie said.

"See ya later, Anny!" Millium shouted.

"Bye~." Anelace waved with a creepily satisfied grin on her face, still entranced with the two sisters. "Ehehehe…"

Fie could only give her a look of exasperation. "Hey. Focus."

"But, I am focused~." Anelace slurred, much like a couple of alcohol-addicted bracers Fie knew and loved. She trusted Anelace just as much.

Sighing, Fie twirled the pen that she hasn't been used for a while and scribbled down the preliminary details of the request. "Monster Extermination Quest, Client: Madam Imelda…"

Fie did a double-take. "Miss Imelda?"

The self-same Imelda that owned the antique shop in Crossbell? Fie had visited her shop countless times for information deals, but this was the first time she saw her name as one of her clients. How come that granny landowner owned a mansion in Bareahard, of all places?

More questions and no way to answer them. Fie shrugged off the curiosity and secured the notebook in her vest. "Mission start, I guess. You have the key?"

"Key?"

"Key to the house."

"I don't have a key," Anelace said.

"Didn't Millium give it to you?"

"Nope. I thought she gave it to _you_."

Fie facepalmed.

* * *

Her first instinct had been to pick their way into the mansion. Anelace convinced her that would reflect poorly on their work ethics as bracers. So instead, Fie bit the bullet and called Altina not five minutes after they had left. Awkwardness ensued. She blamed Millium.

"This place reeks…" Anelace pinched her nose at the smell and the dust motes floating in the air. Being subjected to such a moldy environment was unnatural for an upholder of cute justice. She grasped her sword tightly before cutting a pouncing spider monster in half.

Spider monsters. The size of large dogs. With eight hairy legs and countless eyes that rattled like bloody sepith. "Ugh…"

Fie grimaced as she dislodged her knife from the spider's thorax. Behind her cold mask of indifference was a girl that was just as much disgusted by the ickiness. She kicked at the one charging her flank before shooting it in the head point-blank. A dozen down and at that point, both of them were covered in the grime-y blue blood. They were forced into melee as ranged attacks had the possibility of missing and damaging their client's property. Arts were also out for similar reasons— though the idea burning the house down sounded more appealing by the second.

"Totally not cute," Fie said.

"RIGHT?!"

The rooms themselves were mostly intact, piled high with wooden crates buried in cobwebs and with walls stained by mold. The windows had no visible cracks and illuminated the house sufficiently to see the droves of monsters attacking as soon as Fie opened the doors. Despite being abandoned, pillars sounded solid enough to not have the entire building collapse above their heads.

The house had three floors, according to the request. With Fie baiting in front and Anelace slicing at the monster's backs, the ground and top floors were swiftly dispatched of hostiles. All that was left was the basement. A creature akin to the spider's queen was stated to be lying in wait there, so Fie double-checked their items before proceeding. "Ready?"

Maybe it was from the prospect of fighting a strong monster, or maybe from the idea of taking a bath soon, but Anelace nodded enthusiastically. "Ready!"

With a gentle push, the door to the basement creaked open. Behind it was nothing but silence. Fie walked in first, taking advantage of her lithe movements to sneakily—

_Squeak._

...Damn sneakers.

Thankfully, no demonic creature lunged at them from the darkness. If it were against humans, the entrance would have been the best place to set up an ambush— which was why Fie felt on edge. She glanced left and right and found nothing except a chuckling Anelace.

"What's so funny?"

Anelace responded with a fond smile. "Nothing~."

"Then stay sharp," Fie said. "It could attack us from anywhere. Be on guard."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

She should focus too, Fie thought. Too many distractions on the battlefield resulted in unnecessary risks and, oftentimes, death. Taking care not to make another squeak, she raised her arm in the Eight Leaves Unarmed stance. She had forgone using both gunswords; wielding both maximized their efficacy in mid-range skirmishes and hit-and-run attacks. A fighting style specialized in countering and creating distance between combatants was more effective in tight spaces like where she was at now.

A few tense minutes ticked by as they traveled deeper into the basement. Anelace lit up the path ahead with an orbal-powered lamp. Regrettably so, as they saw nothing but boxes upon boxes stacked atop each other along with dry rat carcasses and a mass of webbed cocoons. This was the spider's lair _and _hunting ground, all right.

A scuttle, like a pitter-patter of legs, resounded from the far left corner of the basement. They were close, but it would be unwise to draw the monster's attention.

Fie braced her arm higher. It was as Rean taught her: redirect the enemy's attack with a free hand before retaliating with a weapon in the other. An exemplary counter maneuver of the Eight Leaves One Blade style.

"..."

She has done it countless times during their sparring sessions, but something felt...off. _Should I put my arm up higher or lower…?_

"A bit lower," Anelace said. "If it's too high, you'll risk having your vision blocked by your arm."

Fie tried lowering her arm a couple of rige down. As if answering her lingering thoughts, her shoulders stopped straining, and her upper torso relaxed. She muffled a thanks to Anelace.

She grinned in return. "Happy to be of help."

A few arges deeper and the wanted monster hasn't shown itself yet. To break the monotony, Anelace decided to engage in some small talk. Her choice of topic, though, needed a bit of filtering. "Soooooo… How are you and Rean~?"

And a mute button for her mouth while at it.

"I don't want to talk about it," Fie answered back.

"Hoho. Is this a disturbance I sense in you two's lovey-dovey paradise?"

"We're fine. Don't worry about it." _Stop asking_, Fie didn't say.

"Well, alright— but if he does anything to hurt you, you come to me, okay?" Anelace shook her head in annoyance. "Pappy always said the Rean's the type to swoon a girl without even trying. Sometimes even the problematic ones."

Problematic. Yup.

"One day, he's gonna get himself in some hot water. As a fellow student of the Eight Leaves style— and older no less— I won't let him off so easy when he decides to break a woman's heart!"

Fie couldn't help but laugh at how Anelace saw her fellow classmate. Truth be told, she would consider Anelace's offer if it were the time and place. She still wasn't comfortable sharing it, but it's the thought that counts. "We're fine. Really. I just don't wanna talk about it right now."

"That's fair. I— "

There was a snapping sound. A thread-like chill ran down Fie's spine. Her scarf swayed from an invisible wind, a fine sliver of light trailing along with it. They were in the monster's web trap, and she had unintentionally tripped it. A shadow loomed above before diving at her. Her eyes widened as a pair of giant, venomous fangs descended towards her neck.

It was too late. Too late to move. Too slow to react. She had been distracted. She had let her guard down.

A tiny slip-up that would cost her her life.

"Whirlwind Dance!"

Anelace slashed in a circle around her, sharp orbal winds following her blade. A violent tornado swept Fie off her feet and sent her crashing through several towers of boxes. It was sudden enough that she slammed her forehead against a steel chandelier. Tossed around haplessly, her eyes struggled to stay open.

The last of what she saw was a crevice in the wall swallowing her into an unknown abyss. Behind her, she saw Anelace fend off a terrifying swarm of monsters on her own before the walls closed and sealed her friend to a gruesome fate.

Fie tried to call out her name... but couldn't. Darkness encroached her vision, and she soon lost consciousness.

* * *

_"...ie!"_

Who..?

_"Fie!"_

The loud pounding in her ears only aggravated the awful headache. Fie slowly opened her eyes to a dark tapered ceiling.

_"Fie! Say something!"_

Where did the voice come from? It sounded desperate. Fie looked around, ignoring the aching of her neck. Her head throbbed as the pounding continued. Something damp covered her face. It smelled like iron and rust. It didn't take her long to realize it was the blood bleeding from her forehead. She patted her belt for her ARCUS and slid a bloody finger through the lines.

A refreshing breath of wind soothed the pain surging through her head. Her sight slowly corrected itself, no longer hindered by vertigo as it adapted to the low light. She could hear clearly now, too; someone was calling out to her through the wall.

Then she remembered. "...! Anelace!"

_"Fie! Thank Aidios you're alive!"_

"Nevermind me, what about you!?" Fie shouted. She didn't bother to mask the panic in her voice. Before she passed out, Anelace had been surrounded on all sides by monsters, including their mark.

_"I'm okay on my end,"_ Anelace said as if she hadn't just fought tooth and nail for her life. _"After I took down the big monster, the rest of them scattered away."_

Should she had expected any less? "That's…"

Amazing? A huge relief?

Frustrating as all hell?

_"More importantly, where ARE you? I can't seem to get through to you."_

Anelace said she tried to pry the wall open, but it refused to budge. Fie checked on her side as well, to no avail. Even with her better than average night vision, she could barely make out anything from the red-painted concrete.

Come to think of it...

"_I'm so sorry, Fie,"_ Anelace's muffled voice said, "_I acted without thinking— I put in too much power and, and…"_

"Drop it." Fie hid her face behind her scarf before realizing that Anelace probably wouldn't hear her. "I'm the one to blame. You saved me. Thanks."

Inexcusable. To be ambushed by a monster like that was unacceptable for members of Zephyr. Xeno and Leo would never let her live it down. That is if she was still alive come tomorrow.

"There's a path here." Fie inspected the wall again. The decor, color, and patterns on it reminded her of the underground room she found earlier. Since there didn't seem to be a way to open it, she was left with no better option. "I think I know where it leads. Meet me back at the mansion."

"_But— !"_

"Hey, don't forget: I was just one accident away from A-rank. I'm as much as a fighter and bracer like you. I'll be fine."

She certainly hoped she will. That had been all of her bravado spent. Contrary to her cold demeanor, being a spider silk's width away from dying brought her anxiety to an unbearable degree. Her heart drummed nervously in her chest, and if she could see her legs clearer, they would have been shaking.

She was scared, plain and simple.

_When did I become such a coward?_

FIe waited until she couldn't hear Anelace's footsteps anymore before moving herself. If her guess was right, then the tunnels were one of those secret passageways Jusis used back when they had to free Machias during their field studies. She hoped that following it would lead her into the sewers or back to the Albarea mansion.

She didn't have a lamp on hand, so she had to make do with the faint light emanating from her ARCUS screen. Looking up as often as to her sides and behind, she briskly walked through the creepy tunnel dyed in the sickly green color of her phone's default background. She really should have changed it a long time ago.

...

"Hey, Alisa. Do you know what would be great to have on our ARCUS? A flashlight~!" Fie whispered to a miniature Alisa sitting on her shoulder.

Of course, there was no Alisa there. "Emma always said that talking to yourself helps keep you sane when you're alone and afraid~~."

How much of that was true, she didn't really want to know but talking aloud like a madwoman was easier to stomach than the silence.

...

No monsters. No leaking pipes. No signal on her ARCUS. No nothing. Just a long narrow corridor built with clay and dust.

How echo-ey would it be if she yelled?

"HELLO!"

Quite a lot, apparently.

"STOP DRINKING, SARA!"

What else?

"YOUR HAIR SUCKS, MACHIAS!"

It didn't suck as much as she was willing to admit, but insulting Machias even when he wasn't around always cheered her up.

...She had exhausted all that she wanted to say, so she might as well practice.

"I WANT TO BREAK UP WITH YOU, REAN...!"

That wasn't so hard— even easier if she said it through orbal mail instead. Didn't make it any less awful, though. Especially after hearing it reverb distortedly in the tunnel.

She never thought she'd be agonizing over breaking up with someone before. Never felt the need to. Three reasons. One, jaeger life was never kind to relationships. Too risky, not to mention dangerous and illegal. Two, her dad would sooner skin a man rather than hand over his precious daughter to him.

And three: she really did believe Rean to be the one. She even promised to make a family with him someday— though that may have been too hasty on her part.

Vivi always said that everyone was deserving of true love. Her's just wasn't it. It shouldn't have borne fruit either. She was more than happy to stay by Rean's side merely as a comrade. As classmates. Never more. What it is now is a distraction. A deadly one. One acquired through her selfish desire to be loved.

She would be doing Rean a favor by letting him go— as soon as she can.

Fie sighed, "Nothing's ever easy."

A crossroad with either left and right passages leading to pitch-black darkness. Guess getting out of there came to luck after all. She flipped a coin, and it landed on tails.

"I'm going left. Ironic."

"_You lost~?"_

"Seems like it."

?

"Who's there!?" Fie shouted.

Not a soul answered her. Only a giggle from a disembodied voice indistinguishable from that of a small girl's. "_Heehee. Follow me~."_

_Follow -what-?_ Fie wanted to ask back, though considering she was starting to hear voices now, that may not be for the best. Hitting her head seriously had done a number on her sanity.

"_This way, this way."_

It seemed like the voice was coming from the right corridor. Against rational judgment, Fie chased after it, ARCUS at the ready. She wasn't naive enough to not believe in ghosts and spirits; she'd fought loads of them already— but if it can talk, then it could tell her where the exit was, willingly or not.

"_Heehee. Almost there!"_ the voice teased. Fie cast a hastening _Chrono Drive_ buff on herself and ran faster. If anything, it sounded like it was getting further away. Fie really could lose them if she didn't hurry it up.

Up ahead was a 90-degree turn. To catch up, she just had to—

**BAM!**

There was a door.

"_Not push. Pull~!" _said the voice, unhelpfully.

What was with her weird relationship with doors recently? Cradling her nose almost as much as her bruised, pitiful ego, Fie picked herself off the floor and pulled the handle open.

The narrow tunnels led into a large, oval room, roughly 30 arge in diameter. It looked to be a study of sorts from what little light her ARCUS gave out. Dozens of bookshelves lined the circumference of the room and across the center, forming a neat little column leading up to a raised platform. Most of the bookshelves were empty save for a few but even then, the place felt cramped and cluttered.

Several dolls lay abandoned on top of the shelves, gathering dust for who knows how long.

A cursory glance around the room yielded nothing that might be construed as an exit, nor did it show who or what was calling out to her. Fie asked the voice one more time. "Hey! Now what?"

Silence.

"Dark tunnels, disembodied voices, spooky libraries, and creepy dolls. What's next? A talking Pom?"

The last one wouldn't have been too bad, actually.

"Where the hell am I?" Deciding that standing around wouldn't accomplish much, Fie started rummaging through the shelves and cabinets hoping that there was a secret lever or something. Unfortunately, she found none. Just tome after withered tome written in glyphs only someone like Emma would understand.

While she was looking, Fie couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. By what, she couldn't tell. She could've sworn she heard the sounds of necks turning and the temperature of the room dropping, though that might have just been her imagination.

"...Don't tell me these books are haunted too."

Couldn't be. Right…?

Ghosts were real. That much she knew— about time she high-tailed out of there.

She brought up her ARCUS on the probable chance that leaving would trigger a trap of some kind. Since she was on her own, she had to move cautiously; following that voice had been all sorts of foolish but it was too late to regret it. Going the opposite direction of where she came in, Fie hugged the wall for a switch that she may have missed the first time. She didn't find any.

What she did find, however, was a peculiar black handbook, written in a perfectly understandable language. She blinked her eyes in wonder when she saw five _very_ familiar words on the cover— as well as the number.

'_**The Dark Prince of Helmdrr... **_**Vol. VII'**

* * *

**I'm not rushing the plot, don't worry. In fact, in going super slow with the updates. Haha...**

**Reviews, Favs and Follows are appreciated.**

**See ya.**

**P.S. Look forward to a surprise sometime this month. You'll see it in the first chapter probably.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Worry**

* * *

"She'll be okay!"

That was the fifth time Anelace said it aloud, reassuring herself that her dear friend was safe. It had only been a couple of hours since she left the mansion, and all she felt was an ever-increasing dread. She could still hear it— the crack of the chandelier as it smashed against Fie's forehead. Perhaps it was luck that the wall closed when it did. Otherwise, she would have had to defend an unconscious person against a swarm of insects hoping to munch on their innards. Thank Aidios that Fie woke up when she did.

Choosing to trust in Fie's words, Anelace hurried over to the Albarea mansion and quickly informed Jusis of what happened. He was shocked that Fie, of all people, would lend herself to such a precarious situation. After further explanation, that shock turned into a calm, understanding nod.

"She should still be within the city grounds," Jusis said. "I've instructed the guards to keep watch on all of the gates leading into the tunnels, as well as the sewers. It is only a matter of time until she shows up."

Altina tiptoed beside him and glanced around the room they assumed Fie was referring to. This was the second time that she had been here. She remembered seeing the smushy objects scattered on the floor, which upon further inspection, appeared to be webbed-up husks. "As I thought," she said, "these appear to have been former victims of an arachnid of some kind. If the monster is as you said it was, then I can assume that one of its kin had been preying off the rodents in the area."

"Hey, hey, hey—" Millium exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Doesn't that mean we have a huge pest problem going on here?"

"Not necessarily," Altina rebutted. She flashed a subtle smile towards her sister. "This specific breed operates more akin to honeybees than regular spiders. With their queen gone, the hive would soon disperse, and the drones would then become fodder for other predators that are more adaptive and are poison-resistant— such as the dromes inhabiting the sewers."

"So... we all good? It's fine?" Millium asked. "I don't have to go bug-squashing with Lammy?"

"That will not be necessary, dear sister."

"Boo."

Jusis shook his head in exasperation. "That may be so, but as the acting Duke, it's inexcusable for me not to have noticed this."

"Bareahard is one the larger cities in the Empire," Altina said. "Not to mention that this city is populated mostly by nobles that have their own skeletons in the closet. Hardly anyone would fault you for an oversight or two— I believe you are governing the city adequate to your abilities, Sir Jusis."

"...Regardless, that leaves us with our current issue."

Altina grimly nodded. "Yes. The whereabouts of Instructor Fie."

They could mobilize a search party, but even with a sizable amount of volunteers, that task could prove daunting. Bareahard was a large city with a large network of tunnels crisscrossing together like an underground maze. By the time they would have charted a sizable chunk of it, it may already be too late.

Another option was to go back to the basement where she split off and demolish the wall blocking the way. Claiomh Solais or Airgetlam could easily do so— but that left the problem of. navigation. It was entirely possible they would get lost themselves. At most, that option should be saved as a last resort should the worst come to pass.

Anelace paced back and forth, one hand fiddling with her hair ribbon and biting her nails on the other. She wanted to do _something. _The unwavering faith Jusis, Millium, and Altina had, however, convinced her to wait and trust those that knew Fie more than her.

"If it makes you feel better, Annie…" Millium said, holding Altina out by the shoulders. "You have express permission to hug my sweet little sister as much as you like."

Altina glared. "I refuse."

A tempting offer indeed, but Anelace continued to pace back and forth as if she didn't hear any of it.

"...Boy, this is more serious than I thought," Millium said.

A knock came from the door. Arnauld, Jusis' butler, politely bowed as he entered the room, to their disappointment. "Sir Jusis, your guest has arrived as per your summons," Arnauld said.

"Show her in."

"Understood."

"Excuse us," Jusis said as the two left to attend to their guest.

"This is the right room, right?" Anelace asked. Her voice cracking, tears threatened to spill from her eyes at any moment.

"I'm positive this is the room Instructor Fie was referring to," Altina said.

"Oh yeah… this room was— " Millium said, only to quickly clam up afterward. She stuttered and averted her gaze, drawing the curious stares from the other two.

"Was…?"

"N-nevermind!" A bead of sweat rolled down Millium's cheek as she faced the door. "Oh yeah! When Fie comes back, she's gonna be hungry! Let me go down to the kitchen and…" She didn't even finish before trailed off and hurried out of sight.

Anelace sighed. Millium was right. Distracting themselves sounded better than pacing around in anxiety. It might lead her into doing something rash. Turning to Altina, she grabbed the girl by the hand and smiled. "We should go too— "

A loud thud, strong enough to rattle the loose furniture, came from somewhere in the room. Then another. Altina would have lost her balance if not for Anelace catching her at the last second. Their eyes darted left to right trying to look for the source of the noise. Was it a monster? Thinking that, two stood up and readied themselves for combat. Claiomh Solais materialized from thin air and floated in front of them, ready to shield its master from harm.

***CRASH***

A portion of the wall, the one that looked like some sort of window, crumbled to dust as an electrifying blast of wind arts thundered through. Fie stared at her now blue knuckles, looking more annoyed than in pain. With a shrug, the fire imbuing her arms flickered out, leaving only the smell of burning ash and concrete.

Her face held the picture-perfect image of nonchalance. "I'm out."

"Fie!"

"Woah—!"

Fie collapsed under the weight of an Anelace tackling her into the ground.

Altina was more reserved, nodding welcomely at her instructor. "Welcome back."

"Hehe… I'm back."

"Cats sneak in through windows or climb over walls," Jusis said after coming back because of the commotion. "This is the first time I've seen stary going _through _one. Door not wide enough for you, perhaps?"

"What can I say?" Fie smiled. "Food's good, the bed's free— I'm surprised you haven't adopted me yet."

"It's great to see you in one piece, Fie."

"Same. Thanks, Jusis."

* * *

Millium yawned as she rolled over her nest of blankets in the living room, the fire burning in the fireplace not doing much to warm her up. Night had only barely fallen over the city, which meant the temperature could drop even worse. "Geez, how cold could it get? Everything's freezing..."

Altina, meanwhile, busied herself tending to her instructor's wounds. She wiped a hot towel on Fie's forehead with an annoyed pout. One of the unfortunate side-effects of using healing arts was that sometimes cuts wouldn't close properly. Oftentimes, this led to an infection or an unnatural swelling of the muscles as its regeneration is forcefully pushed to past its limits.

Fie looked away when Altina glared at the bruise on her hand. She preferred not to be treated like this but accepting deep down that she liked the pampering was a hard pill to swallow. The physicians had already examined her for any signs of lasting trauma. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. After plenty of rest, she'd be able to go back to work by tomorrow.

It didn't make the present any less awkward than it was. She had no excuse to act so recklessly. "My explosives wouldn't cut it," Fie said. "I had to do _something_"

Lugging dynamite on her person was just a force of habit by now. She tried to dial back and only carried around enough to blow a couple of doors or so. Punching through the wall sounded a lot more cost-efficient.

Altina pressed on the bruise harder. "It would have been a net _loss _if you broke your arm instead," she said. "I'm beginning to wonder why you picked up 'his' thoughtlessness, of all things."

"Sorry…"

"I'll forgive you if you promise not to do it again," Altina said, almost pleadingly. The way her ears seemed to droop drove the nail home.

Fie nodded silently.

Altina wasn't the only one, too. Anelace worried herself to the point of exhaustion, and letting the woman rest her head on her lap was the least that Fie could do. She didn't have the right to complain.

She really did mess this one up. What would have been a walk in the park for the two of them, turned into a troublesome mess. Maybe a break from work wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Fie, a minute, if you please," a voice called. Jusis deftly dodged a Millium crawling up towards hug his legs as he continued. He gave Fie a small envelope and a letter. "For you."

"Hm?"

"I took the liberty of contacting your client for you. I asked if she wanted to see you in person, but she insisted on prioritizing your recovery. The request was fulfilled successfully and thus, your pay."

Fie glanced at the envelope and was not surprised to see Madam Imelda's signature on the bottom. The old crone really had been their client, and if that were the case, Fie didn't blame her for being busy. Peering inside the envelope revealed a generous sum of mira, along with three vials of grainy expensive-looking medicine— or Zeram powder if Fie had to guess. It bordered on excessive; the money she got paid for was more than enough, in her opinion.

She's not gonna complain, of course.

"What did Madam Imelda say?" Jusis asked, pointing to the letter.

Skimming over it, Fie gently folded the letter and tucked it in her vest pocket. "Nothing much. Said I should come visit her shop again when I have the chance. Seeing as Crossbell is _not _in Erebonia anymore… That would have to wait."

"Was that it?" Millium asked.

"Yup."

Altina picked a comfortable spot inside Millium's blanket fort to sit on before speaking. "Odd. Madam Imelda was quite eager to get a chance to talk to you earlier. She only changed her mind when we told her you were badly injured."

"That's it," Fie answered curtly.

"Okay…" Millium trailed off, rolling lazily sideways to grab ahold of Altina's exposed leg. "Oh yeah, Fie. You never told us how you found your way out!"

"I dare say I'm curious myself," Altina said, patting her sister on the head. Jusis nodded along.

Fie shrugged. "It wasn't anything special."

It really wasn't.

"Did you find something interesting down there?" Millium pestered, craving for something to talk about to alleviate her boredom. "No scary monsters? No secret, super-duper rare treasures?"

"There were ghosts."

"Gh-Gho— ?!"

"Anyway," Fie continued, "I'm pretty beat. Night."

Carefully setting aside Anelace off her lap, Fie stood up and stalked out the door.

…

"That's unusual," Altina said.

Sighing, Jusis rubbed his temples for the umpteenth time that day. "So, you noticed."

"Instructor Fie rarely acts so coldly nowadays. The last time I've experienced something similar was when— "

Her words were interrupted by Jusis clearing his throat. It took Altina a second to realize why.

"I apologize," she said. "I spoke without thinking. It is not my place to judge."

"It's alright. It seems we've got a long way to go."

"T-T-TILLY!" Millium exclaimed, interrupting their thoughts. Face pale, she clung to Altina's arm as if for dear life. "S-she said there were gh-gh-gh-ghosts down there! Did I hear that wrong?! Ghosts don't exist, RIGHT?!"

Right?

* * *

_Come play with us again!_

Or so the ghost girl said after subtly leading her to the exit shaft. Ghosts were indeed real.

And so was insomnia. Fie covered her eyes with her arm in a desperate attempt to _maybe _get some sleep.

Absolutely no luck, whatsoever.

"I can't sleep."

It wasn't about the nightmares either. On one hand, the nightmares were getting worse— darker and more vivid with each passing night. On the other, she simply could not calm down. Mental rest was just as important as physical rest. That didn't stop her mind from going several hundred thoughts per second.

Fie grabbed the ARCUS sitting by her bedside. Twelve midnight. Around this time, Rean would still be up working, trying to squeeze some trivial tasks or assignments in his teaching plan. No doubt about it.

She felt dirty thinking about the fact that she remembered.

Figuring it was best to distract herself before she did something regretful, Fie jumped out of her bed and sat on her desk. Inky blotches dotted the luxurious wood, flanked on all sides by crumpled pieces of paper. Some had already spilled to the floor— all a sad consequence of what she was doing earlier.

_The Dark Prince of Helmdrr, Vol. 7._

Though… calling it a volume was a stretch. The book was only a relatively few paragraphs long— barely taking up half a dozen pages if added up. It felt more like a compilation of sorts, a collection of tangential ramblings that, when strung together, formed a narrative. It made no sense to her considering she hasn't read all the previous volumes.

Therein lay another issue: even if she knew the story, she couldn't understand it. Entire sections of paragraphs were written in a language she didn't recognize. Some were crossed out, marked, and scribbled over with their supposed meanings— as if someone had been translating the text into something more intelligible.

Not the work typical of an author.

On that basis, she deduced that: a) the illegible text was probably the original penned by the author, and b) the copy she had now belonged to a dedicated fan trying to translate the book.

Whatever it was, though, it felt unfinished. The last page ends abruptly, and the translation notes dwindle in occurrence partway through.

"...'Have fun,' huh?"

Those were Madam Imelda's words to her in her letter. Somehow, the old woman knew that Fie would stumble across the book and wrote down references with which Fie could start researching on. Among them was a manual on how sentence structures are broken down and analyzed, a book about basic syntax and grammar, a glossary listing the different dialects spoken in Zemuria, and lastly, a study talking about literary practices in the early periods of history.

It was also infuriating to think that Madam Imelda knew all of this beforehand and that Fie wouldn't resist digging deeper simply because of her curiosity.

Opening up a few of the materials she stole— er, _borrowed without permission_ from Jusis' library, Fie started to work on where the previous translator had left off. It had been difficult at first, but eventually, she managed to create her own word chart to help in her translation. While there were bound to be some errors here and there since she didn't have the proper academic acuity or authority to judge whatever the hell she was doing, that was neither here nor there as it helped pass the time.

As for _why_ she was going through such lengths… she can't answer. Curiosity can only motivate one so far. Maybe boredom struck, or maybe it was because of the stress. Maybe a subconscious part of her felt that studying hard like this would make her fall asleep. She can't really be sure.

Fie never thought she'd be invested in a book so much, though. It surprised even her. She'll get bored and tired of it eventually. What's important was that her eyes and hands were busy enough to serve as a distraction.

A sharp, pungent odor assaulted her nose. Fie had to hold herself back from grimacing when a familiar cup of black ooze appeared in her vision.

"Black coffee," Altina said, her grin glowing in the night. "Same blend as his. I hope you like it."

"Thanks…" Fie muttered out. Not having the heart to refuse, she took large gulps of the drink and downed it all in an instant. She gave Altina a satisfied smile, to which the girl beamed in delight.

It tasted bittersweet.

"What are you doing?" Altina asked, pointedly staring at the papers strewn across the desk. "Bracer work?"

"Yeah," Fie said. Her arm subtly moved to hide _The Dark Prince_ from Altina's gaze. "I can manage, don't worry about it."

"Then, the caffeine should be helpful. I advise you to finish soon, however; you need not overwork yourself."

"I will. Thank you."

"He's always worried about you too, if I may remind," Altina said. Fie noticed Altina hasn't mentioned his name at all. Was she trying to be sensitive?

Still, Fie patted the Altina's head gently. She had no reason to be mad at her; Altina meant well. "I know."

"Then please… sleep," Altina said, in a stern, yet caring tone.

"Goodnight, Altina."

Altina frowned. Her disappointment was clear as day. "...Goodnight, Instructor."

* * *

Altina Orion soundlessly closed the door to her room. It was already past midnight; making unnecessary noise in the house she was a guest at would be considered rude. More than that, she didn't want to wake up her sister as they shared a bed.

Gliding past Millium and into the balcony, Altina took a deep breath to clear her head. She felt annoyed. Her day had been one stressful event after the other, yet here she was sitting still and observing from afar. She wished she could do more— wished she could have done more. Delicate matters such as this require delicate solutions, not brash ones.

Sometimes, she wished that she didn't have her emotions if it meant that she wouldn't have to act on them.

They did have a plan, though, courtesy of her sister. Maybe it was finally the time to chip in, as shamelessly 'Millium-esque' as that plan was. There was guarantee if it would work— it had just as high a chance of backfiring, but Altina felt that it could be their best bet, given the circumstances.

But that was a bundle of trouble reserved for later— she had more pressing concerns. Dialing a number she'd long memorized by now, she was greeted by a ragged voice from an increasingly ragged man.

_"Hello?" _Rean asked. His eyelids blinked rapidly as if it was chasing sleep away.

"Goodmorning."

_"Oh, it's you Altina…" _

Something felt off. Couldn't Rean have seen her name from the caller ID? It seemed like he didn't recognize her until he heard her speak.

"I'm here to report about the favor you asked of me," Altina said, voice barely audible in the night. "It's about Fie—"

"..." No response. Rean stared blankly at her, his mouth was ajar, and his eyes muted— unfocused and distant.

For a brief moment, those fuschia eyes flashed yellow.

"Rean...?"

Hearing her call out his name, Rean snapped back to reality. Color surged to his face, and his eyes blinked back to normal. _"Huh? Oh, yeah… How is she?"_

"She is as hale and hearty as you are, Instructor."

Which meant: not at all. Rean looked far worse than he had been yesterday when he asked her to look after Fie. The two were two peas in a pod if that pod involved killing themselves through overwork, anxiety, or stress.

And that was barring the fact that what Altina had just seen could clearly _not _have been her imagination. She could still see her instructor with those blank golden eyes— ominous, yet not lacking in beauty. Something was definitely off, and just as before, Altina was powerless to stop it.

"Go to sleep."

Zemuria was a wicked place indeed when the student was the one telling the teacher to go to bed like a parent disciplining their child. An analogy could not be more apt. Altina tempered herself not to yell in anger.

_"But—"_

"Go to sleep, or I'm telling everyone how you coerced me into calling you every day, late at night just so you could hear me talk."

The implications of that… were not pretty. If Rean's face wasn't pale before, it was now. _"F-fine… you win," _he said.

"I'm hanging up. I shall call you again tomorrow. Goodnight, Instructor."

Before Rean could greet her back, she had already hung up.

She should get some sleep, too.

"Tilly?" a quiet voice asked from the bedroom. "What's got you up? Did'ya have a bad dream?"

Yawning, Millium joined her sister in the balcony, seemingly woken up from the noise. She hopped atop the balustrade, staring in awe at something on the horizon.

Altina followed her gaze and saw, in full view, the cityscape lighting up the night. The cathedral took center stage, glowing in vivid green colors as it ended its late-night mass. Faintly, she could hear the rambunctious chatter of nobles and smell the alcohol as they host their parties throughout the district. A shooting star trailed past the sky— a luxurious cruiser that is just about to dock into the airport.

Thinking about it, she's never had enough of a reason to visit Bareahard at night. This may be the first time she's seen the city as peaceful as this.

Millium giggled beside her, holding the same sentiments in her mind. She looked as glamorous as the landscape. Her simple, yet elegant nightgown complemented her budding beauty quite well. Breezy and tasteful, she looked like a lily glistening in the moonlight. Altina guessed that part of the reason Millium wanted a more mature body was so that she could wear age-appropriate dresses like this more often.

Reminiscing about why they made that body was a fond, but painful memory for them. So much so, Altina reflexively asked: "How are you feeling?"

"Me? As great as ever," Millium answered, with far less enthusiasm than Altina would have expected. It almost sounded… melancholic. "My body's perfect as it is. You don't have to keep worrying about me."

"Oh…"

"It wasn't all that long ago, either," Millium said, sitting up on the edge of the balcony. "At first, I thought I was going to have to live the rest of my life as a talking sword. I guess I wouldn't have minded that. Being carried around by Jusis wherever he goes sounded kind of like a dream at the time.

"But," Millium continued, "even if I didn't deserve it… I was saved. I got to hug you guys again, and feel your warmth on my body all over again."

She grasped Altina's hand in hers. Warm, and alive.

"Mil…" Altina muttered. She held Millium's hand tighter— as if it would eventually wither it away. Like it had done so before.

"And even then, THAT body started to rot," Millium said. "I couldn't move as I used to, and, eventually, I couldn't even speak. My flesh started to mold, and I could _feel _my bones breaking inside of me. I was back to being helpless again."

Altina closed her eyes as she remembered the visceral detail. They only had a hypothesis, gleaned from months of research into the homunculus creation process. Millium's old body couldn't contain her very being. It was outdated; the recipe of materials used to transmute it wasn't optimal, and thus her body rapidly started to decay.

Millium's 'soul' had far exceeded the limits of what ancient alchemy was capable of.

"_Then," _Millium said, "I was saved yet AGAIN, and even got me a sweet bonus to boot!"

She cupped her hands on her (admittedly) larger breasts, and smirked when Altina instinctively looked away, face red in embarrassment.

"I owe you guys my life, like, three times over by now," Millium said, gazing back to the cityscape. Her words carried with them a sense of wistfulness. "I would do anything if it meant I could pay you guys back. I would give everything I have, except one."

"Which is…?"

"My life."

"Oh…"

"Yup. Not gonna trade it for anything." Millium puffed out her chest like a smug child realizing she's invincible. "You guys think my life was so precious enough that I got to cheat death _twice._ I can't just give it away."

Now _that, _Altina cannot fully agree on. The two girls shared a laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement.

"Anyway," Millium said, melancholy back in her tone. She leaned on the balustrade while fighting back oncoming drowsiness. "What Fie's doing now— killing herself with work and whatnot… it just doesn't sit right with me, you know?"

"This would hardly be the first time she did such a thing," Altina said.

"Yeah, exactly! Her life is just as precious as mine. She should know that."

"So, you intend for her to realize this truth with your 'plan,' don't you?" Altina asked.

"Yep!"

Altina grinned. By this point, she was sold on going along with their scheme, for better or for worse. While it would pay to be cautious, if Millium had placed this much thought and faith in it— unlike her usual spontaneous shenanigans— then she should put just as much faith in her sister.

"And what, pray tell, does this 'plan' involve?" she asked.

Millium pointed a finger passionately towards the sky. "A race!"

…

"Eh?"

* * *

**Millium's story is part of a prequel I have in mind for Millium's fanfic. Eventually.**

**So. Hi. I'm back, probably.**

**Tl;dr, Utawarerumono good. Arknights good. Quarantine bad. It sapped all motivation I had to write.**

**Finally get to the racing part of this arc, which is basically the meaty action part of it. Place your bets now. Among the characters introduced, who'd you think will win?**

**Next up will be Trails of Zeph. Then Heaven's Wings. Look forward to it.**

**Surprise should be posted up by now, if you're on browser. I don't know how to view a story's cover art if you're on mobile. Go to desktop site or something. If you're on AO3, pixiv link should be down below.**

**Reviews, Favs, Follows are much, much appreciated.**

**See ya.**

**PS. Rean's part is based on the latest Hajimari no Kiseki info. If you haven't seen it yet, do so now. It's pretty hype. Whether it will go somewhere in the context of this fic, we'll find out.**

**Cover Art (pixiv): en/artworks/82676256**


End file.
